Deus Nova
by Wutron
Summary: Harry was an orphan adopted by the Fitzroy family, a normal family that ran a coffee shop in London. The boy lived a peaceful life, and the only thing magical in his is the taste of the coffee he brewed. Unbeknown to him, a young woman who visited his shop on a seemingly average day would lead him into a world of adventures and mysteries.
1. An Average Day

Deus Nova: Chapter 1

The morning sun scattered through the large and rustic yellow-tainted windows of a charming coffee shop, illuminating every crevice with trickling light. Its stillness reflected the silence of the street, where few were awake so early in the morning. The old redbrick walls glowed with the warmth of dawn, and the smooth surfaces of the round wooden tables shimmered brighter than the stars that had just faded. The only noticeable presence in this little shop was a young raven-haired boy, who looked no older than fifteen, slowly wiping at the counter. His pale skin and average build would seem ordinary if not for his eyes: two bright emeralds sparkling with the dim sunlight. Although barely visible under his messy hair, the boy had a distinct scar in the shape of a lightning bolt, which appeared as though a recent wound, even though it was an old scar.

The gentle tinkling of the wind chimes signaled the arrival of the day's first customer. The boy rushed over to welcome his usual morning guest, but he was surprised to find that there were actually two people standing by the door of the shop so early in the morning.

The first, standing at the front, was a chubby old lady wearing an overlarge brown fur jacket and a felt hat, a combination that seemed too strange, even without the context of the hot summer climate, though this was a strangeness he recognized and grew to love. The person behind her was a beautiful young woman, wearing a very tight leather jacket and a pair of matching leather pants that hugged her legs tightly, with a full head of disheveled pink hair that reached down to the base of her neck. The two customers clearly did not know each other, and seemed to have no interest in doing so anytime soon.

"Mrs. Hudson," the boy smiled warmly as he pulled a chair by the counter for the elderly lady, "Your usual spot."

Turning his attention to the unfamiliar young woman, the boy nodded in greeting. "Good morning, miss. Take a seat wherever you want, and I will be with you shortly."

The young woman smiled brightly at the boy. After curiously wandering around the entire shop as though conducting an inspection, she chose a seat next to a window opposite to the main counter where the elderly woman sat and focused her eyes on some distant wonder out of the window into the street.

Getting back to Mrs. Hudson, the boy went behind the counter. "You are never a minute late. Would you like the usual, Mrs. Hudson?" Seeing the nod from the old lady, the boy poured her a cup of coffee, added three tablespoons of sugar and a streak of skimmed milk, and handed the cup to the old lady. The young shopkeeper quickly reached behind him to grab an already prepared bag of baked goods and turned to Mrs. Hudson, who accepted them graciously.

"Mr. Fitzroy, your coffee is as good as ever," the lady said as she placed her cup back on the plate, "The way you make it is almost magical."

The young boy blushed and nodded. "Please call me Harry, Mrs. Hudson. Do I have to remind you that every morning?"

"No, my dear boy," the jovial old lady chuckled warmly with a shake of her head, "I guess I'm too accustomed to having your father in the store. One day the young Fitzroy will take over the senior Fitzroy, although that time has not yet come to pass." Mrs. Hudson then leaned in and whispered with a grin: "And between you and me, I am not as fond of the latter."

"Thank you very much, Mrs. Hudson. But I don't think the old man is about let me take over anytime soon. Wait, I will be right back."

Harry quickly wiped his hands on his red apron and walked over to the window seat where the beautiful young woman was situated. She seemed to have taken interest in the conversation he had with Mrs. Hudson earlier, but her gaze was still fixed outside the window, as though transfixed by some wonderful scenery.

"What can I get you miss..."

"Tonks, just Tonks," the lady replied with a wide grin as she fixed her attention on the boy. Harry shuddered as Tonks's eyes traveled up and down his body, almost predatorily.

"Ok, miss… ugh, Tonks, how may I help you today?"

"You can start by taking off that apron," Tonks teased, "I bet you look so much better without that big red thing hiding those abs." Seeing Harry face flushing as red as his apron, Tonks laughed. "I'm only joking, _Mr. Fitzroy._ The broomstick design of your logo looks good actually! I would like an espresso with steamed milk, and an egg-a-muffin. Make it choppy."

"Coming straight up _, Ms. Tonks._ " The still embarrassed boy grinned at the antics of the ebullient young woman. It has been too long since he heard somebody order a latte by asking for 'espresso with steamed milk,' but he did enjoy the change for once.

Getting back to his counter, Harry expertly prepared the breakfast egg and muffin, which he had cooked shortly before the customers arrived, and began assembling the young woman's latte. Taking his time, he slowly sculpted the frothing milk on the to resemble the head of a rabbit. With two little foam paws on the rim of the cup, the rabbit looked as though it was pulling itself out of a warm creamy bath. The details on the bunny were especially realistic – too realistic. The head and ears were not flatly drawn on the surface but were sculpted from the foam to protrude from the cup.

Harry carefully carried the latte and the breakfast egg and muffin to the girl, who looked very impatient, and gentley placed the items on her table.

Tonks stared at the boy with mild annoyance. "You took sweet your time! There is only one other customer, and... SWEET MERLIN THAT IS A CUTE BUNNY!"

Whatever complaints the impatient lady had in mind vanished, and in its place, was the awe and excitement of a five-year-old girl seeing a foam bunny for the first time.

"It's so fluffy! I love bunnies – jackrabbits to be specific - they are my favourite animal. I guess I must forgive you this time, _Harry_ , but if you call me anything other than Tonks next time, I will have to kill you." Harry grinned at the girl's mocking threat but was a bit surprised to see a sliver of seriousness in her expression. This girl was getting stranger and stranger. Never had Harry heard of the expression 'Sweet Merlin', but the quirkiness of this girl made Harry enjoy her presence even further. Taking the now empty tray under his arm, he smiled and turned around to get back to his counter.

"Wait," Tonks said as she grabbed the edge of Harry's apron, "Come sit with me."

Nervously Harry looked at Mrs. Hudson. He very much desired to agree to the request of the girl, but there was another customer in the shop, and Harry was not about to let the shop's image and his professionalism down.

"As much as I would love to, I am on my shift right now, and there are other..."

"Just sit with the girl, you fool," interjected Mrs. Hudson with a hearty chuckle across the shop, "You'll be seeing plenty of these old bones… more than you will ever want to I assure you!."

Smiling gratefully at Mrs. Hudson, the boy sat opposite to Tonks but had to divert his gaze to avoid his embarrassment. The girl was resting her chin on the table and looked at the bunny with her eyes level to the rim of the cup. Her pursed lips rapidly opened and closed, reminding Harry of a goldfish. Chuckling to himself lightly, he turned his eyes to her flamboyant pink hair.

Hearing his chuckles, Tonks lifted her eyes menacingly and gazed into the deep emerald eyes of the boy. "You have a problem with my hair?"

Taken aback by the abruptness of the question, Harry quickly shook his head. "No, I think its brilliant." He realized this must be a sensitive topic for her to be this self-conscious, a feeling he was overly familiar with.

A few small speckles on red appeared on her face, but her expression remained nonchalant.

"You really think so?" Tonks asked.

"Yeah," Harry smiled, answering honestly, "Do people usually have an issue with your hair?"

"They say they don't, but I can tell that they are usually lying," Tonks shrugged.

"Well, am I lying?"

Tonks playfully squinted at the boy, eyeing his face closely.

"Hmm... I think you're good. I've been trying to decide on a new colour actually, but I can't seem to make up my mind." she answered.

"I think red would look better on you," Harry blurted, realizing the comment might seem a bit rude, he looked at her apologetically, but Tonks didn't seem to find it that way.

Tonks sank back into her chair and tapped her finger on her chain. After a short moment of contemplation, she grinned at the boy.

"I'll take that into consideration," the pink haired girl said as she returned her gaze back to the foam bunny, "Did I tell you that you're really evil. I mean really really evil."

The bespectacled boy blinked in confusion, which caused the girl to burst into a fit of giggles.

Tonks reached for the boy's hand and stroked it gently. "How can you expect me to drink it when there is such a cute bunny sitting there. It would be like killing it just to take a sip. I am not heartless enough to do it." The girl lifted the back of her hand to her forehead, feigning a dramatic faint.

"That should be easy to solve," Harry said with a chuckle. Inhaling sharply, the boy blew on the foam bunny, which was level to Tonks's face, and dispersed the bunny into several large foam chunks which splattered everywhere on the unsuspecting girl.

Yelping in surprise, the Tonks closed her eyes and suppressed a giggle, but upon hearing Harry's laughs, she broke into a fit of laughter of her own. Quickly wiping her face with the back of her palms, Tonks crossed her arms and pouted.

"Is that any way to treat one of your customers?" the pink haired girl teased.

"That's standard procedure for every new customer," Harry answered with mock seriousness.

While eyeing the boy in intrigue, Tonks took a sip of the latte. Her eyes widened as the rich flavor and the pleasant aroma washed over her.

"Wow, this is good!" Tonks exclaimed as she stared at Harry, "I wasn't expecting that from a little shop like this, no offense. Well, I definitely wasn't expecting somebody as young as you to be running the store."

Harry chuckled at the straightforwardness of the eccentric girl. Harry enjoyed the company of those who do not try to hide their thoughts. "Thank you very much. This little store has been passed down for four generations, and our coffee is the best in London. My parents actually own the store, but they are currently on vacation... somewhere."

"Aw, so those meanies left a little boy all by himself," Tonks pursed her lips teasingly.

Harry chuckled and shook his head, not taking her teasing too seriously. "Well, they have been taking these strange vacations since I was eleven, leaving the store for me during the summer."

"What do you mean by 'strange vacations'?" Tonks asked in genuine intrigue.

"Well, I don't really know where they go… Every time I ask, they simply refuse to tell me," Harry shrugged.

Tonks, clearly fascinated, leaned in with anticipation. "Is this normal for mugg... your family?"

"I don't think this is normal at all," Harry answered, oblivious to her slip of the tongue, "The strangest part is the postcards they send. Every time they travel to a new city, they somehow manage to find these postcards of the most insignificant landmarks, and there is usually no text to explain where they actually are."

"Why do they do that?" Tonks asked with fascination.

"I don't really know," the boy frowned and answered honestly, "But I do get a souvenir if I guess their location correctly. Did you know there is a small town in Canada with only one tree? It took me three weeks of searching through geography books to find out the meaning behind the postcard of that darn tree."

"Wow, I wouldn't even bother with the postcards if I were you," Tonks grinned, "I would just enjoy the alone time with somebody special if you know what I mean."

Harry stared at her blankly, clearly not understanding what she was saying, or pretending not to anyway. "Well I'm usually very occupied by school work, so these little puzzles are pretty fun from time to time."

"How old are you, Harry?"

"Just turned Fifteen," the boy answered, "How old are you?"

"My age is beside the point!" Tonks said quickly, eying the boy opposite to her menacingly when his convenient cough sounded a lot like the word hypocrite, "There shouldn't be that much work for you to do over the summer at this age! You should enjoy the youth!"

"Well, I don't really have the time to do anything between working at the shop and completing my studies."

"Why not?" Tonks asked.

"I skipped a few grades," Harry said uncomfortably with hesitation, "I have been attending a pretty challenging school since the last school year."

"Oh, perhaps I've heard of your school?" Tonks pressed.

"Maybe," Harry glanced away, "Are you still in school?"

"I asked you the question!" Tonks grinned wickedly and pointed an accusing finger. "And I expect all my questions answered, if you know what's good for you. So, your school, Harry?"

"Oxford…" Harry shifted unnaturally.

Whatever Tonks had in mind was nowhere close to the answer she heard. Her messy pink hair seemed to spike up instantaneously like a startled cat..

"Are you... one of those geniuses or something?" Tonks asked, "Like that guy with the puffy white hair who sticks out his tongue all the time?"

"I'm no genius, just different," Harry answered while fidgeting, surprised that she used an Einstein reference, "What about you, Tonks. What do you do?"

Tonks was surprised at how defensive Harry suddenly became. He answered all her previous questions and teases lightheartedly, but somehow she had struck an open nerve. Sensing his discomfort and desperately obvious attempt to change the topic, Tonks opened her mouth, but hesitated for a brief moment before beginning."I'm a... detective. Just finished my three years of training, and now I'm on my first official assignment."

"Wow, I wasn't expecting someone as young as _you_ to be a detective," Harry teased, relieved by the change of topic, "Remind me, how old are you again?"

"Prat!" Tonks laughed, "If I hurt your feelings earlier with the age thing, I apologize… _NOT!_ And that is nowhere close to asking a proper lady about her age! The... Oh Merlin look at the time! I have to go!"

The panicking girl sprang from her chair and chugged down the remaining latte. In a quick motion, she placed a ten-pound note on the table, grabbed her egg-a-muffin, and broke into a sprint out the door, but tripped on the door frame clumsily. After comically regaining her balance by swaying on one leg, she ran across the street and disappeared from Harry's view.

With a warm smile and a shake of his head, Harry picked up her plates and the ten-pound note before wiping down the table. Upon returning to the counter, Mrs. Hudson got up to leave.

"Pleasure as always, Harry."

"The pleasure is always mine, Mrs. Hudson."

"Wonder if Nymphadora will come again tomorrow," the chubby lady muttered as she wobbled to the door.

Although he didn't hear what Mrs. Hudson said, and even if he did he wouldn't recognize the name, his thoughts were exactly the same.


	2. A Lonesome Night

Chapter 2

The morning after his first encounter with the eccentric pink haired girl known only as Tonks, Harry found himself having to unlock the door for his first customer well before the break of dawn. The visitor's head was covered by a hoodie, but Harry had an inexplicable suspicion as to who this mysterious early visitor was.

"Sorry, the shop usually doesn't open until an hour later, but I can brew some... Ah, Tonks its good to see you again!"

With a wide grin, Tonks took off her hood, and reveal a brilliant head of crimson red hair. Hopping into the shop, she pinched the cheeks of the boy who was only slightly shorter than her. Brushing her hands off his reddened cheeks, Harry smiled at the bubbly girl.

"Wotcher, Harry!"

"Brilliant hair, Tonks. Brilliant!"

"Thanks," Tonks said as she hopped happily to a seat by the counter, "Had to come early cause I got a scolding yesterday for being late."

"No problem, Tonks," the boy said happily, "My shop is always open for you. It's pleasant to have a friend to talk to so early in the morning."

"So we are _friends_ now?" Tonks said with a grin, "Aren't things between us moving a teeny bit too fast? Next thing I know, I'll end up in your private quarters."

Blushing madly, Harry shook his head. "Sorry, I was just assuming. You don't have to be..."

"I was only teasing," Tonks interjected with a laugh, "You young boys are so fun to mess with. Of course, I'm your friend."

"Well your friend wants to know your name," Harry said, not disliking her teasing.

"My friend still doesn't know?" Tonks faked an offended gasp, "This friend is a bit slow, isn't he? The name is Tonks."

"You know what I mean Tonks! I want to know your full name."

The red-haired girl hesitated for a moment. She turned her head to stare at the door, refusing to meet the boy's gaze. After a long silence, she caved in.

"Fine," Tonks sighed, "My name is... Dora Tonks."

"That's a not a bad name," the boy said, clearly not noticing the scowl on Tonk's face, "Dora..."

Before he managed to finish, he found his lips pinched shut and a sudden pain in his forehead from being flicked.

"I told you yesterday that if I catch you calling me something other than Tonks, I will... Woah that's a neat scar."

Her anger instantly vanished, and in its place was curiosity. Tonks released her grip on Harry's lips and sat back in her chair.

"Well, at least there is now one person who likes it, _Tonks,_ " Harry said still rubbing his swollen cheeks, nervously emphasizing her name, "I had that scar for as long as… well I remember, and my parents said that I already had it on the night they found me."

"So you are adopted?" Tonks asked quietly but seemed fully comfortable in asking these sensitive questions.

"Yeah, and I love my parents for saving me on that night. They said they found me in a little basket on the street not far from the shop. It's sad to think about what could have happened if my parents hadn't come that night. The people who abandoned me left me with only a blanket and a note that didn't explain much other than telling my parents that my given name is Harry."

A streak of shock flashed in Tonks's face, but it was dismissed quickly. The red-haired girl smiled warmly at Harry and took his hand.

"But everything worked out in the end, right?" her question sounding more like a statement.

"That's true," Harry smiled back. "Now how about I give the most diligent customer her latte for free?"

"Yes please!" Tonks beamed.

Harry grinned and offered her a cup of freshly brewed espresso mixed with steamed milk, which was just to her liking. The boy's face lightened as he saw the happiness his brew gave to the girl sitting before him. For the next two hours, the two sat alone in the shop and talked about everything that came to their minds. Harry explained to her his current study of literature, although Tonks looked at him as though Harry was speaking gibberish, and his various hobbies. To his surprise, Tonks also had an unearthly interest in American comic books. When Tonks was asked about her childhood and schooling, she unexpectedly avoided the topic, but Harry did not pursue it any further. Time seemed to fly for the two of them, and in a blink of an eye, it was already time for Tonks to go.

"Will you be coming back again tomorrow?" Harry asked anxiously, yet suppressing the longing from his voice.

"Every morning," Tonks answered. Giving Harry one last wink, she turned to the street and disappeared into the small stream of morning pedestrians.

And the girl fulfilled her promise. Every morning, Tonks arrived at the break of dawn, only occasionally preceded by Mrs. Hudson. The conversations between the teen and the self-proclaimed teen became increasingly intimate. Many secrets and whispers were shared and many tales of youthful adventures were told. The two would be lost in a discussion unless more customers started to arrive. And even when Harry is preoccupied with many customers, Tonks would watch the boy work his way around his shop quietly and marvel at his fervour for work. When it was time for Tonks to leave for her 'secret assignment,' one which she would not satisfy Harry's curiosity no matter how much he begged, the two would part reluctantly. They felt like lifelong friends in a matter of days.

* * *

But every dream had a quick ending, and every reality had a harsh awakening.

Two weeks after their initial meeting, Tonks suddenly disappeared from Harry's life. It was as though she never existed. Only then did Harry realize that he didn't know her that well after all. He didn't know where she came from, didn't have her number, didn't know where she worked. The boy felt completely lost and a sudden void filled his entire body. The most painful thought for him was that something had happened to Tonks, and Harry would rather have Tonks forget about him than for that to happen.

Nine days after Tonks's sudden disappearance, Harry was about to close his shop following his regular routine, but he felt a familiar chubby but cold hand on his shoulder.

"Harry, what's the problem?" asked Mrs. Hudson who was just about to leave, "You have been sulking for the past couple of days."

"Its nothing, Mrs. Hudson," Harry forced a smile, "Have a great night."

"This night might be anything but…" muttered Mrs. Hudson, "Be careful tonight Harry, it's not often that I get to see you at these ungodly hours."

Harry, not paying full attention to her words, nodded distractedly. "Yes, Mrs. Hudson, I'll be all right. See you tomorrow."

"Ok dear, but let me know if you need anyone to talk to," Mrs. Hudson frowned as she stepped out the shop, "Those crazy parents of yours will still be away for four more weeks. Sometimes I wonder who is the child and who is the adult."

"Thank you, Mrs. Hudson," Harry waved her goodbye before locking the door, wondering how she knew when his parents would be back.

The moment he flipped around the open sign, Harry didn't sweep the shop or clean the tables as he routinely did every night. Instead, he sank into the seat in front of the counter and rested his head on his folded arms. His mind wandered through all the scenarios that would keep Tonks away from his shop, and none of them seemed more probably to him than the plain explanation that Tonks didn't find him interesting anymore.

Remaining quiet and still, Harry fell fast asleep on the cold wooden counter.

* * *

A distant silhouette ran towards Harry in a blur. All the features were indistinguishable in the darkness of the night, but the figure was clearly a girl.

"Harry!" Tonks screamed as she dashed into his open arms.

"Tonks, where have you been?" Harry whispered, locking the girl in a tight embrace.

"Harry... Please," the girl replied weakly.

"Is something wrong, Tonks?" Harry asked as he parted to examine her. Looking at the girl closely, her pale smooth skin seemed to lightly glisten with sweat. Her full luscious lips were painted a mesmerizing shade of blood red. The dark hazel eyes were staring without focus. Her hair, like liquified rubies, flowed until the small of her back.

Running his fingers through her now exceedingly long hair, which he remembered to be short, his hand was brushed by a warm moisture which engulfed his sense of touch. The warmth spread farther up his hand into his arm, and it gently dripped down to his elbow. The scent of rust and iron filled his lungs.

"Tonks?" Harry gently shook the girl. Her head limply rolled back, splashing her crimson hair to the side like a waterfall. Only then did Harry realize that the length of her hair did not change - her crimson hair was flowing with her warm, crimson blood.

Screaming without sound, Harry jolted up. Scanning his surroundings in a panic, the boy was relieved to find himself in the confines of his coffee shop. It was only a dream, more precisely a nightmare. But it felt too real. The scent of blood, the warmth of touch and the soreness from the scream lingered into reality.

 _How difficult it is to distinguish dream from reality now,_ Harry mused sadly.

Looking out the window, he saw the darkened night hanging heavily in the sky and tiny raindrops streaking down the stained-glass panels. The street was almost completely desolate, and his shop was one of the very few stores that still had the glow of light. Looking around the room, he saw empty cups and dirty tables along with an unswept floor. Quickly getting to work, making up for the lost time, he walked around the counter but was startled by a sudden thud on the glass panel of the front door. Looking at the source of the noise, Harry found a hooded female figure leaning on the locked door and attempting to turn the rigid handle.

"I'm sorry miss, the shop is closed," Harry's voice projected as he approached the door, "You can come back tomorrow at six."

When he reached the door, his view of the nightly visitor became less obscured by the engulfing shadows. The girl was wearing a rain-drenched hooded leather cloak. Her pitch-black hair blended into the shadows of the night, but stray strands cut across her face, contrasting with her pale white skin. She looked back at Harry with a pair of tired and almost dazed eyes, but their hazel colour was immediately recognized by Harry.

"Tonks?" Harry whispered in revelation.

The boy found himself quickly unbolting the door and forcing it to swing open. Tonks, who was leaning on the door, lost her balance and fell into the shop, but Harry instinctively reached a hand under her waist and caught her into himself.

She appeared different from her normal self. From his memories, her nose was slightly more angular, and her features were as though they were arranged expertly. Now, her face, although not dramatically different, appears smoother and more rounded in an elegant manner and losing none of her beauty.

Tonks momentarily lost consciousness, and she started falling the moment Harry helped her up, but fortunately, she fell into Harry's open arms. With all the girl's weight applied to the boy, he felt every movement of her shallow and strained panting pressed into his body. She was badly injured.

A wave of fear flushed into Harry as he remembered the nightmare he had only moments ago. The two scenes were alike to the point of being sinister.

 _Please let this be another dream,_ Harry wished inwardly, although he knew this was not another vision; it was now a reality.

Harry looked down as he felt her hand held onto his extended arm, and what he saw fazed him. Tonks's left arm hung limply at the side of her body, with her hand twisted at an impossible angle. Underneath the leather cloak was a battered Grey shirt, revealing much of her undergarment and blistering skin, and a large hole on her jeans exposed a sickening gash across her right thigh, rendering her leg limp and uncovering her seared red flesh.

Harry was stunned by what he saw, but he quickly shook away the stagger. A sudden rush of adrenaline forced its way into his head and cleared away all previous fatigue. Looking at her bleeding leg, he carefully placed the girl on the floor, grabbed a bottled liquor from the counter, and yanked his sweater off. He hastily removed the cap of the bottle with surprisingly steady hands and poured the chilly water over the large gaping wound. Forcing himself to ignore Tonks's spasms of pain, Harry carefully wrapped his sweater around her thigh, making sure to cover the entire wound, and continued wrapping it around multiple times so that enough pressure was applied.

"Harry!" Tonks gasped as Harry tied the last knot of his makeshift bandage. With shallow whispers, the girl continued: "Please... hide... not safe... coming..."

For a second, Harry thought she was hallucinating from the blood loss, but seeing the desperation in her eyes and the severity of her wounds, those words sent shudders down his spine.

"Don't worry, Tonks," Harry cooed as he held her hand reassuringly, "I'm here, and you are safe now."

Tonks shook her head slowly, still struggling to regain her breath, and a single tear streaked from her eye. "I'm so sorry... I was scared... shouldn't have come... they are coming..."

Hearing those words lit a new flame in Harry's heart. Harry saw that Tonks's desperation wasn't for her own safety, but over how she had jeopardized Harry's. In one strong swoop, he lifted Tonks off the ground, and carefully placed her out of view behind the counter. Turning to the shop's phone and dialed for an ambulance and the police, but was surprised to find that the line was dead. After trying one more time, a renewed wave of fear washed over him. There will be no help tonight.

No matter the cost, he was determined to protect Tonks from whoever - whatever – might be approaching.

 _Not only protect_ , Harry determined inwardly, _I'll make them pay_.

"The police will be arriving shortly," Harry lied to reassure Tonks as he knelt next to her. "Our best chance is to remain here for the time being. The people who assaulted you don't know that you're here, but they can't be too far behind and running out now might catch their attention. Once we wait for a short while, I'll bring you proper medical attention."

Looking at her blood-soaked clothes, Harry quickly realized the trail she must have made and noticed the splatters of blood in the shop.

'Remain calm,' Harry preached to himself, 'Panicking will only hurt her.'

The situation felt distant yet familiar, like a faint trace left by some repeat of time. Harry did not know how to explain it, but he felt prepared for what was about to come. He knew what he must do.

Her sudden disappearance and her line of work convinced Harry of the immediate danger they were in. Tonks didn't make herself known or cry for aid when she ran, suggesting that she believed concealing herself would give her a better chance at survival. A typical street thug would run away if she made a ruckus.

'They didn't care if others she got help,' Harry realized. 'They targeted her, and they would continue doing. They are professionals.'

Harry didn't bother to guess how she managed to find herself in so much danger. His only thoughts were to find a way to save her. The thought of carrying her to a nearby police station was quickly discarded. With her injuries and the conspicuous nature of the two on the streets so late at night would prove devastating. It was safer to remain in the shop until he was sure the assailants have gone by.

Painfully looking back to her wounds, he found that other than the large cut which wrapped around her thigh, all the other cuts we on her sides or her back. Seemed to have been made while she was running, back turned to her assaulters, which means the attackers were proficient with throwing knives or some sort of cutting projectile. The lack of gunshots or any indication of firearms was a good sign, but no more than taking away a branch from a burning fire.

'They were toying with her,' Harry fumed, 'These wounds were deliberately meant to torment her… not kill.'

Tearing his eyes away from her blood-soaked figure, Harry returned his gaze to the entrance.

 _Blink_

Two men, dressed in black overcoats, stepped into the shop in rapid succession. The first man seemed to be scanning the room while the other quickly approached Harry, who was standing behind the counter.

"Sir, we are closed," Harry informed him in a startled but unwavering voice, "I would have to ask the two of you to leave."

Harry didn't dare take his eyes off either of the two men or even shoot Tonks, who was lying on the ground by his foot, a quick glance in case that blew her cover. The man now directly in front of Harry, being the larger of the two strangers, covered most of his line of sight. He quickly reached over the counter and with a gloved hand, grabbed Harry by the collar and pulled him until the boy was mere inches from the assailant's face.

"You see here punk," the man growled dangerously, reaching into his back pocket with his free hand, "I am not going to ask twice, was there a girl here short moments ago?"

Harry intentionally mumbled nervously and slowly stuttered: "Ye…yes… th…there was a-a red-haired girl…. But please I don't know anything! Please!"

"Where did she go!" The man demanded, pulling Harry farther towards him, but released his other hand from his pocket.

"I don't know!" Harry replied quickly, "wait-wait I remember! She appeared quite injured when she stumbled into my shop… I asked her if she needed help but she quickly got up and fled down the street that way."

Harry pointed in the direction opposite from the one Tonks came from. The two assailants' gazes followed his finger, and seemed satisfied with that answer. The two men clearly did not perceive Harry as a threat and did not seem to have taken out their weapons.

"Not a single word of this punk, if you know what's good for you," the man threatened as he gestured for his partner who was at the back of the shop looking through the windows.

The two men quickly exchanged some hushed words and proceeded to the exit.

Harry released a sigh of relief, causing the shorter man to look in his direction. Suddenly his body tensed and he grabbed his partner's arm.

"What's the issue! We have to get going"

"The boy lies," the shorter man said, nudging his nose in the direction to the right of the counter.

Harry froze. The trembling of his hands and the sudden breathlessness of adrenaline burned his chest. He looked to where that man was staring.

Blood. A small patch of blood where Harry laid Tonks on the ground to patch her wound. The stains trailed behind the counter, leading to where Tonks was hidden.

"Gentlemen," Harry said in surprising calmness, "There is a perfect explanation, but before I continue, where did the where did my keys go?"

The two men flinched in confusion by the question out of context, and that was all it took for Harry to run back and leap over the counter. Heart racing, he sped towards the man closest to him, which was a mere three feet, and gripped his fruit knife firmly in his right hand. His target responded by reaching for the weapon in his back pocket with his left hand and poised to intercept Harry's throat with his other hand, which was a vital mistake. Dodging the man's swing arm, Harry thrust his knife upwards into the man's exposed neck and felt the dampness of the blood which soon followed the wound.

The dying man gurgled on the viscous blood pouring from his throat. Desperately, he clawed at Harry and clung to his shirt while attempting to stop the flow of blood. The other assailant recovered quickly from the surprise and instantly converged on Harry, who struggled against the rigid grasp of the fallen man.

Harry kicked at the dead man's cling in rapid successions until his grip was finally released. The young man barely had time to glimpse at the quickly approaching figure before screaming under the burning of cold steel stabbed into his stomach. Trembling, Harry looked down to see the death he had mercilessly inflicted, a fate which he knew he would soon share.

With his last breath, Harry tried to tell Tonks to run but was cut short by another sharp pain and the darkness that engulfed his consciousness.


	3. A Cobblestone Street

Chapter 3

 _Blink_

The pain always felt too real. The taste of blood still hovered in his mouth, and the wetness of his 'imagined' wounds seemed to have soaked him from head to toe.

'Damn… Why at a time like this…' Harry thought inwardly.

Blinking rapidly before fully opening his eyes, Harry saw that he was still behind the counter. Turning to the corner by the counter, he was unsurprised to discover the trail of blood in his vision was in fact real. Grabbing the nearest cloth, Harry all but threw himself on the ground and quickly scrubbed away all traces of the blood and rain that were left by the injured Tonks.

After one last check around the shop, Harry was satisfied to find that know all traces of Tonks's arrival was covered. This was not the first time he had experienced one of these realistic visions. They were like daydreams that appear too real until the moment you snap out. During these episodes, he was in his body but he wasn't himself. It was almost as though someone else controlled him and he was the front-seat spectator of the show, a show that is often grim and violent. Harry used to ignore these visions and pretend they never occurred, but he learned to take them more seriously as they often carried inexplicable foresight and truth.

Stepping to the door, Harry was about to bolt it before deciding that it was a bad idea. Even though the inside of the shop was clean, there might be traces outside which would lead the assailants here.

'It would be better for me to confront and lead them off her trail rather than hiding until they discover where we are,' Harry thought.

With the lights on, but dimmed, and the door unlocked, Harry left the counter and took upon himself to repeatedly wipe the front windows, in order to monitor the movements outside.

And so, he waited.

In what seemed like an eternity, three cloaked figures quickly approached the shop from the distance. Harry readied himself in front of the door as the three cloaked individuals steadily got closer. Without hesitation, they violently flung open the door and stepped into the shop. Turning to Harry, the three, to Harry and Tonk's good fortune, stayed near the entrance surrounding Harry, completely unaware of Tonks presence.

"Good s-sirs… the shop is currently closed," Harry said with a practiced stutter, "I was just about to lock up and head home."

The person standing in the middle pulled from his robes a long wooden stick and pointed it at Harry.

"Tell me, boy, where did that little metamorphmagus go?" the hooded figure snarled.

'Metamorphosis... magus?' Harry thought in confusion. Whatever question he was anticipating to answer, that was definitely not one of them. Before he managed to articulate a reply to such a confounding question, the hooded figure to the speakers right swatted his partner.

" _He's a bloody muggle you idiot_ ," the person to Harry's left said in irritation. Turning to Harry, he continued, "Did you see a woman wearing a leather cloak head this way? We have... Suggestions that she might have come this way."

Pretending to only slightly perplexed, Harry nodded slowly. "I did see a person walk by the shop only moments ago. Not many people come around to this little street so late at night, so I was surprised when I saw her."

"Did she see what she looked like and where she went?" the one in the middle pressed, wooden stick still raised at Harry.

"Since my light was on, I couldn't really see any details of the things outside, but I did see her continue to the right of the shop and cross the street."

"Muggle, you have served your purpose," the figure in the middle snarled, " _AVADA K_..."

Before he managed to finish, his hand that held the stick was immediately pulled down by the person on his right.

"You are a bloody idiot. The Killing Curse on a muggle so close to a ministry entrance?" the man said in disbelief.

Harry did not like the threatening tones and he especially didn't like to hear the term 'killing curse' and whatever it might implicate. But nothing they did showed any signs of getting ready to use weapons, although the sticks they held gave Harry a feeling a discomforting familiarity. It felt as though he had seen them in a long forgotten dream.

"Just _Obliviate_ the bloody boy and get it over with. There is no time to lose."

Harry could swear the person standing in the middle grinned at the last remark. He quickly raised the wooden stick again and pointed it to Harry's head.

"Well, since I won't have any fun with you, maybe I will wipe, what... ten years? _Obliviate_!"

A blinding flash sped from the wooden stick and hit Harry directly on his forehead, with the impact knocking Harry back. As though time had stopped, Harry found himself suspended in free fall. A violent surge of heat erupted from his chest and crashed through every fiber of his body. Harry felt a wave of scorching red energy release from deep within his body, sizzling each cell with excitement. The flush of circulating power didn't hurt him in any way, but his body felt like a pressurized container, one which was about to explode at any given second. In a silent scream, the boy crashed to the ground.

Harry remained conscious, but his scar burst in pain. Never before had he experienced such a reaction from his scar before, and it took all the will to refrain from howling in pain. Trembling violently, he waited until he heard the three sets of footfalls leave the shop before clawing his fingers at his scar. No matter what he did, the throbbing from the scar remained, and it threatened to take the light from Harry's eyes. Realizing nothing that he was doing made the pain any better, he clenched his teeth and ignored the throbbing to slowly sit up.

Although Harry was shocked by what had just happened, he buried his inquiries, seeing as more pressing issues were at hand.

"I'm… so sorry," Tonks sobbed hoarsely from the behind the counter, "It's all because of me."

"No, I'm fine Tonks," Harry forced a smile through the pain as he slowly stumbled his way around the counter, "My head throbs a bit, that's all."

Tonks was wide-eyed and decorated with streaks of tears. She stared at the boy as though he was a miracle.

"How? He… _Obliviated_ you," Tonks whispered between breaths, "You… shouldn't even… know who I am."

Harry squeezed Tonks's hands and slowly helped her to her feet. "Nothing is going to happen to me. You're in a bit of shock. I'd say from the blood loss."

"But Harry..."

"Now is not the time" Harry interjected, worrying about the state of mind of his friend, "Can you walk?"

Tonks paused for a moment, staring into Harry's eyes, but snapped herself back into reality shortly after.

"Your right, we need to get to safety," Tonks strained weakly, "I can limp, but I will need some help. I'm a lot better than before though."

"It's alright, Tonks," Harry said, "I will help you walk. Those three might come back, so it's not a good idea to stay. Let's wait next door in Fisco's pub. I have a spare key. I'll go get the police once you are safe inside."

"No," Tonks said as she leaned onto Harry, wrapping her arm around his shoulder for support, "The police won't come. They have put up muggle repellent and anti... We need to get out of here on our own."

"You lost way too much blood Tonks, I am surprised that they didn't notice the small trail on the floor. You are in no state to try something like that, just wait for the police. "

"Harry, please believe me," Tonks pleaded, "We have to go. _Now_!"

Harry looked into the desperate yet determined eyes of the girl and nodded. Although he doubted her current physical capabilities, he placed his complete faith in her.

"I believe you, but we have no time to lose. Let's leave from the back exit, it's the opposite direction to where I pointed them, and try to put as much weight on me as you can."

Supporting her by the waist, Harry and Tonks quickly moved to the back of the shop and stepped out into a narrow alleyway. The rain fell gentle but dense, and the street alley was fleeting with water.

"Which way is South?" Tonks whispered.

"Keep following the path."

Tonks nodded and the two maneuvered down the alley, this time slower due to the rain and the wet stone path. The two barely traveled at walking speed, and Tonks's gasp of pain with every limp didn't help their progress.

"We can't keep to this road, there's a dead end next block," Harry whispered as he lifted more of Tonks' weight unto himself.

"I'm feeling better," Tonks wheezed in a strained voice, "You don't have to help me as much. We need to get past the ward boundaries, Harry. Just trust me."

"I trust you Tonks, but none of what you and those people said make any sense, what are ward boundaries?" Harry pressed in concern, "It might be better to seek help and get your wounds treated."

"I…" Tonks scrunched her face, "I can't explain this properly right now. Just please keep heading south. Please, Harry."

Harry nodded and observed the limping girl pressed against him. Her breathing seemed much easier than before, and the pain in her injured leg appeared to be having less of an impact on her walking. The openings of many smaller cuts were surprisingly gone, and, to Harry's confused amazement, her flesh seemed to be regenerating rapidly and her movements were increasingly coordinated.

Barely reaching the next block, Harry heard a loud bang from somewhere behind him and saw a large fizzling red spark arching across the night sky.

"The little muggle shite was helping her all along! They're right there!" Harry heard a voice scream, a far distance behind him.

Suddenly Tonks jerked him to a stop. "Leave me here, Harry," Tonks pleaded, her eyes filled with dread, "They only want me, not you. Go to safety and… send for help. I can handle myself."

Harry looked at her in disbelief and began to drag her forward, pulling all her weight.

"I'm not leaving you here alone. God knows what those bastards will do to you."

"Harry, please... I got into this mess, and I shouldn't have dragged you into it!" Tonks sobbed, "Just let me go. You can't escape those three - especially not with me slowing you down."

"No means no," Harry stated.

Tonks began to protest, but a series of red and violet sparks, missing them by only an inch, kept the words from her mouth. The two instinctively ducked down, and Harry pushed Tonks ahead, putting himself between her and the source of the sparks.

Turning his head back, Harry caught a glimpse of another volley of red flashes coming from the wooden stick one of the assailants was holding before feeling the projectile hitting him directly on his right shoulder. Surprisingly, Harry felt no pain, but the force of impact propelled him off his feet, causing both him and Tonks, who was crouched in front of him, to crash into the wet stony ground.

Knowing the worst was likely about to happen, Harry crawl over Tonks's body and covered her protectively. Hearing a sinister laugh, a rigid boot dug into Harry's side, forcing the air out of Harry's lungs, but he refused to budge from shielding Tonks.

"Would you look at that, the muggle is trying to save the metamorphmagus whore," the man stomping on Harry's back snickered.

Wincing in pain, Harry, with his head pressed firmly against the wet pavement and glasses nowhere to be found, saw two more sets of boots arrive in front of him.

"What do we do with the muggle? We can't kill him right here, can we?"

"I don't see why not; the ministry knows by now."

"Screw the muggle! Take him with us and we dump his body somewhere in a ditch," the man laughed.

"Pity that the master wants the bitch, or we could have had a lot of fun with this one. Little bitch almost cost me my arm."

"They fetch for quite a bit o' gold on the market, but I dun think nobody's want her after our master is done with her."

The three men standing around Harry and Tonks laughed frantically. Hearing their words trembled every muscle in Harry's body. It wasn't fear or disgust that he felt, but a primal flaming rage and instinctive protectiveness which seemed to possess his mind and body.

"Well, I don't see why we need to hand her over right away. Waiting an hour or two won't hurt, as long as she is alive."

"Then let's have some fun," one of the men snickered.

Harry felt another impact on his back and was instantly flung three feet away, face digging into the cold and wet ground. The pain in his scar returned, but this time even stronger than before. Harry felt as though every nerve ending was being bitten by insects burrowing into his skin, and the heat within his chest threatened to explode from the confines of his body. At first, he thought that this was caused by whatever the criminals hit him with, but he came to quickly realize that this was internal. Harry felt the change, like an inexplicable morph of a butterfly bursting from the prison of the chrysalis. After an eternity of scorching in the flames of that internal heat, the unbearable energy suddenly became a gentle warmth, like the touch of a familiar friend, and it seemed to pull on Harry, summoning him deeper into himself.

Grinding painfully against the pavement, Harry turned his head to look at Tonks. His hands shook uncontrollably when he saw Tonks being forcefully pinned down as two of the men, taking pleasure in her struggling and screams, began feverishly tearing away at her clothes. At that moment, Harry felt all the scorching heat that was tormenting him only moments ago gather in the palms of his closed fists, and it continued to gather and grow until Harry's hands felt detached from the rest of the body. Harry opened his palms and directed at Tonk's frantic assailants, and through all his will he pushed and guided the heat out from his palms.

Instantly, two colossal jets of searing orange flames shot from Harry's palms toward the three shocked men and Tonks, whose glazed eyes perfectly reflected the light of the flames. Although blinded by the sudden flash of light, Harry scrambled to his feet and staggered towards Tonks. The boy was shocked by what had just occurred, but he sensed an ethereal connection with the flames: it was as though the two swirling masses of fire were assuring him, whispering to him, and protecting him. Somehow, he knew they will not harm Tonks, and he knew they will not cease until the other three men have fallen.

Not caring about, or even noticing, the fates of the three men, Harry knelt next to Tonks and cradled her protectively.

"I'm here now, Tonks," he whispered into her ear, "You will be safe."

The burning touch of the tightly wrapped arms around Tonks's body cleared her mind and returned her to clarity. Her fear and anguish were extinguished from her body, and the painful trauma had simply vanished.

"Harry, the wards… They are gone! Quick, take the wands!" Tonks urged.

Seeing that she can support herself, Harry released his hold on her and scanned his surrounding. Two wooden sticks, wands as Tonks claimed, like the one pointed at him during the assault, laid motionlessly in a puddle on the ground. Around him, the three flailing men rolled wildly on the wet pavement, desperately attempting to extinguish the almost living flames that coiled and constricted like snakes on their prey. Their cloaks blazed like torches shining in the night, and the blackened smoke escaping from their bodies spread the scent of charred flesh. No matter how hard they tried to put out the fire, it only continued to rage on, consuming their hosts painfully and steadily.

Quickly grabbing the two wands, Harry threw the two potentially powerful weapons to Tonks. The girl expertly snatched one of the two out of the air and reached out and grabbed the second after it had hit the ground.

"Harry, more of those bastards are coming," Tonks said faintly, clearly dazed by her wounds and blood loss, "Grab onto me and please remain calm."

Complying with her orders, Harry wrapped his arms around her shoulders tenderly. The boy was expecting to help Tonks off the ground or to carry her in his arms, but nothing in his mind prepared him for what came next.

 _Crack._


	4. A Two-Story House

Eyes fluttering open, Harry regained consciousness but found his entire vision to be blurry. The light of morning punctured through the heavy curtains. His hands slid across the unfamiliar bed he was resting on, but he found no comfort in finding nothing but the linen sheets he was covered with. A sudden noise from his right started him, and he instinctively dived to the left but found himself crashing into the carpeted floor.

"I'm so sorry for surprising you, Harry," a soothing voice cooed, "And for stunning you back then. The situation almost shocked me to death when I saw you on Nymphadora, I..."

The voice trailed off. Harry hesitated for a moment, but once he began to look around the scene, he was inclined to believe that the woman attacked him only to protect Tonks and her apology was genuine.

"Please give me my glasses," Harry said in agitation. The inability to see properly still filled him with anxiety.

"Oh, they were not there when we… found you, Harry. But I retrieved some contacts for you after we had run some tests on you to see if you were hit by... Well, it seems as though you only suffered minor scratches and a small fracture."

The blurry figure slowly walked around the bed. She quietly knelt down next to Harry and handed him a small cubic fluid filled container. Harry quickly applied the lenses on his eyes and was finally able to regain his vision

"Where am I?" Harry asked wearily.

"Ugh, I should have started with an introduction!" the woman shook her head, "My name is Andromeda Tonks, Nymphy's mother, and you are currently in our house, as you probably know by now."

 _'Nymphy?'_ Harry thought inwardly with a smirk. He had just discovered one of _Nymphy's_ most guarded secrets. The reason for how threatening Tonks became when Harry tried to ask for her full name suddenly became apparent.

"I don't remember getting here," Harry said as he began to link the events together. Suddenly remember the circumstances of the previous events, Harry sprang to his feet.

"Where is Tonks?" Harry roared, now in full panic, "Her injuries! There was something strange in..."

"Everything is fine," Tonks's mother interrupted with a glint of tears in her eyes, "She is currently resting next door. Her wounds have been healed, but she is still suffering from the effects of blood loss. She briefly told us about what you did last night. Thank you for bringing my daughter back to me, Harry. Thank you."

Andromeda pulled the boy into a tight embrace, warm tears now freely falling from her eyes. Harry didn't know how to react, but he returned the gesture with a one-armed hug.

"Mrs. Tonks, sorry but I still don't fully understand what happened. How did I get here? No... I saw you come out the door from where we were attacked, but that is impossible."

Harry, who was hyperventilating from the confusion, pulled away from her arms and struggled to get to his feet. Hundreds of possibilities sprouted into his head, but each one was discarded as quickly as it came. Harry now remembered the flames which seemingly erupted from his hands and the nauseating sensation he felt as he touched Tonks in the decisive moments. Both events could be caused by hallucinations, but nothing answered how they escaped the three assailants, and nothing explained why they are in Tonks's house and not the hospital.

"Please wait a moment dear, let me get my husband so we can explain everything to you." Mrs. Tonks gave Harry's shoulders a tight squeeze and quickly left the room.

Now with full control of his sight, Harry slowly examined the entire room. It was rather a small bedroom fitted with a single queen-sized bed that took up most of the space. There was a bedside table right behind Harry, and the curtains to his left were thin but comforting. To the opposite side of the room stood a double door closet and the entrance to the room. But something seemed a bit strange to Harry. The walls were painted in a dark shade of blue, but there were three rectangular patched on the wall with a lighter shade, indicating that they were recently covered by posters of some sort. Looking closer, there was a ripped corner of a yellowing poster stuck to the wall with a piece of tape, and it was clearly a result of somebody removing it in haste. The room was void of any pictures and memorabilia, but the lack of dust on any surface indicated that the room was in regular use. Somebody was trying to hide all the posters and framed pictures, for no apparent reason which he could think of, and he did not like that at all.

Opening the curtains, Harry discovered that the window faces the front of the house. The driveway and sidewalk were comfortingly identical to the ones he collapsed on yesterday, but this street was alien to the boy. Harry did not understand how he and Tonks appeared at a street he never visited before when, only moments before, they were around the vicinity of his shop, a district Harry knew like the back of his hand.

Harry reached back and sat on the edge of the bed.

'This street is nowhere I have been before,' Harry thought, 'Its definitely not three blocks away from my store, and the coincidence of Tonks' parents living here makes even less sense.'

The illogical nature of the chain of events danced in his mind like a gloating villain who won the battle against his sanity. His anguished thoughts were interrupted when Andromeda and a man, who Harry presumed correctly to be her husband, entered the room.

"Harry, this is my husband Ted," Andromeda said gently as she tugged Ted's arm, "We have some news for you, and we know it will come as a shock."

Ted nodded in agreement, but Harry remained silent and motionless. "I was in your exact same position, well maybe not as extreme, when somebody first told me about it. And I have to say, it came as a shocker. But please save any objections and questions after we tell you the whole thing, and please understand that we are not trying to trick you in any way."

Harry wearily nodded at the two standing by the opposite end of the bed. The boy was already prepared for an extraordinary answer, even without the indication from their tone. He desperately needed to find a missing link to the seemingly impossible turn of events and was willing accept almost any seemingly okay answer.

Seeing that Harry was prepared, Ted continued. "Nymphy told us that you grew up... ordinarily, so this may sound completely insane. There are many myths and legends in the world that are based on truth, although many are exaggerated, even though the truth is one that people would normally reject. You see... Andi, you must help me out here. I don't know how to break it to the boy."

Andromeda shot a dangerous glare at her husband and one shook her head indicated her thoughts of his incompetency.

"I think it would be better if you tell him, _dear,_ " Andi glared, "It would do his good to hear it from somebody who was 'in his exact position' as you so adequately stated."

Ted sighed and nodded in defeat. "Ok, just please try not to freak out Harry. You have read or heard of the old tales of wizards and witches and how people in the past practiced witch burning? Well, they are real. I mean of course the witch burnings were real, but the existence of witches and wizards is real."

Ted paused and observed Harry's reaction, but to his surprise, there was none. Instead, his eyes glazed over and he sat motionless in the spot. After a very long, and awkward for the Tonks, silence, Harry turned his head to Ted.

"So, these witched and wizards perform magic, and they have the ability to control fire and travel a great distance instantly?"

The Tonks were surprised at how well the young boy was taking the information. Andromeda's lips twitched when a flashback of Ted's reaction played through her mind. Ted, clearly sensing the thoughts of his wife, looked to his feet and blushed.

"Yes, Harry, _we_ do have those abilities, but they are more like skills you develop after repeated training. Magic is real, although we try to hide it from the non-magical world, and it can do both good and bad."

Harry nodded. As preposterous as it sounds, the explanation was the only one which answers every one of Harry's questions. He finally understood the how a wooden stick appeared to be a weapon, and how they had seemingly, or actually, teleported.

"I would like to see some proof, if you can don't mind," Harry said, mustering all the calmness he could, "You are a witch, am I correct in assuming Mrs. Tonks? And you must be non-magical, Mr. Tonks."

Both the Tonks nodded, not expecting the first words coming out of the young man to be those. Had he started screaming or dismissing the notion completely would seem normal to the two adults, but his calmness left them in disbelief.

"Please call me Andi."

"And please call me Ted. We cannot even express how much you have done for us by selflessly saving our daughter. There is no way we can ever repay you, and please don't feel as though you must be overly courteous and polite to us. We already consider you a close friend, even family, if you will have us."

"Thank you, Mr... Ted, Andi. I did what anybody would have done, so there is no need for repayment or anything. I am lucky to have Tonks as a friend, even though we have only known each other briefly, and I would have done anything to see her safe."

After hearing those words, Andi buried her head into Ted's shoulder and released a few silent tears while Ted, eyes shining with gratitude, nodded at the boy.

"You are a very special man, Harry," Tonks said, "Many people in your position would have instantly abandoned our daughter, especially under the circumstances she had told us about. I can't say thank you enough times to tell you just how grateful we are. Thank you."

Harry frowned but nodded his head.

"You are welcome, Ted, but I must say that your daughter was the one who got us out of the trouble."

After a short display of emotion, Andromeda composed herself and wiped away the tears on her face.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she whispered, "You must still be waiting for some proof of magic."

The sadness in the room instantly disappeared as Ted began to chuckle. "I still remember how well I took it _after_ I saw your demonstration. Can't imagine what he is feeling right now. Must think we are two nutters, but is too polite to point it out."

Hearing her husband's words caused Andromeda to be overcome by giggles of her own. Her tears quickly faded and her mood brightened.

"You always know how to cheer me up," Andromeda pecked Ted on the lips, "Now for that proof."

Andromeda pulled out a wand from her back pocket. It was a different design and colour than the previous two Harry had seen, but the overall shape was very much the same. She swirled her wand in a circular motion and said: " _Wingardium Leviosa_!"

Upon the completion of those words, Harry began to rise from the bed. Still in his seated position, but feeling the effects of being airborne, Harry flailed his arms and legs wildly in search of support, like somebody sitting on a falling chair. Now he truly believed. His visions, the fire, and the wands could finally be explained. It was simply magic.

Harry was slowly returned to the ground, and to his dismay, he had discovered Ted laughing hysterically while Andromeda was trying to suppress a smirk of her own. His reaction to floating had clearly been over the top.

"I believe you," Harry now smirking himself, "But why did you use two words from Latin roots? Would it not work if you simply said 'lift'?"

Andromeda blinked, clearly not expecting theory inquiry.

"You are very intelligent, Harry," Andromeda praised, "I can lend you a few books on basic spell casting and magic theory if you want to learn more later. Giving you an explanation right now will only confuse you even more... Just like that? How are you taking this so calmly?"

"Well, if you told me magic was real three days ago, I would have sought you medical attention… Sorry, that came out quite rude. But now, the existence of magic is the only explanation which ties everything together. I have to admit I'm still a bit reluctant to accept this."

Ted nodded at the maturity of the young boy sitting before him. "How old are you exactly, Harry? Nymphy tells us that you own a coffee shop around West End."

"I just turned fifteen. I don't own the shop, but my family has been running Fitzroy's Fountain for four generations."

The Tonks couple shared a glance and frowned. "Harry, did you experience any strange phenomena growing up? Do strange things happen when you experience very intense emotions?"

Harry knew exactly where Andromeda is trying to lead him, but he could think of nothing in his past that could even hint at magic. "From your question, I guess I really did produce the flames, but I have not done anything magical in the past. All of this is completely new to me."

"That is very strange," Andromeda said, "Is there any way we can contact your parents? They might be able to answer some of the questions we have."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, "Both my parents are normal, excuse me, well non-magical, and they have never done anything out of the ordinary, other than the summer trips they disappear on. Ugh... My brain is still clotting from everything that has happened since last night. You are asking about my birth parents. I have never met them in my life, and I don't know them whatsoever."

"It is possible that you are the first wizard in your family," Andromeda frowned, "But being a muggle-born, which is the term used for first-generation magic users, is very rare, and usually the families notice the inexplicable 'accidents' around the magical child, and you'd didn't receive the invitation to a school of witchcraft and wizardry when you came of age. Have you never experienced accidental magic at all? No changing your appearance? Surviving a very dangerous fall? Even trivial things like shattering a cup count too. You demonstrated an incredible amount of magic last night in the form of flames and the ability to shatter the wards which bound Nymphy from… Teleporting."

"None that I can think of," Harry answered, "Never before have I felt, if that's the right term, the magic like I did last night."

"Hmm... Do you know your birth name?" Ted asked, "Most of the magical families in Britain are related to each other. Your birth family name might give us a hint."

"That is luckily one of the only bits of information I have from my birth parents," Harry answered, a hint of sorrow-filled excitement shined in his eyes, "My birth name was Harry James Potter."

To Harry's great surprise, the both Andromeda and Ted gasped at his statement. They stood silently, stunned by the confession, and warm tears immediately began to fill Andromeda's already swollen eyes.

Sitting confused and worried, Harry shifted nervously, "I take it from your reaction that you have heard of my birth family before?"

Andromeda appeared to be completely dazed while Ted only nodded. Placing an arm around his wife's waist to support her, the man repeatedly opened and closed his mouth indecisively, not being able to formulate the appropriate words.

"Is there something wrong?"

"Nothing is wrong, Harry," Ted slowly replied, "It's just... the everybody thought you were gone, Harry."

"What do you mean?" Harry now agitated, "Why would you know who I am - was? Please tell me, the two of you are starting to scare me right now."

"I am so sorry, Harry," Andromeda immediately replied, snapping out of shock, "I don't even know what to say at this point. You disappeared fourteen years ago. I don't... Ted go contact McGonagall right now."

Harry sprang to his feet and signaled for Ted to stop. "I don't know what is going on here, but I demand an answer right now. The two of you do not appear as though you wish me harm, but after last night, I don't feel comfortable with you going off to contact some stranger immediately after I share my birth name with you."

"You are right," Andromeda composed herself from her slight panic, "I am sorry, but you don't realize how much shock and surprise you just gave us. I am not in the place to tell you everything, not because I don't want to, but because I don't know the whole truth myself. I will tell you everything that I know, and we will tell you what we plan to do and who we are contacting after I tell you why this is very important if that is acceptable to you."

Harry agreed with Andromeda, but his mind was still on high alert. Not being able to see Nymphadora yet was not reassuring to him at all.

"The details of the events that happened fourteen years ago is still up to debate, but some general facts are very well known. There was a criminal, a Dark Lord in the magical world, who was raging a war against the rest of Magical Britain. That monster was a blood supremacist, and he believed that purebloods, people whose lineages are entirely magical, are better than anyone else. This notion is entirely absurd, but many wizards and witches still followed his beliefs and his command. Your parents, James and Lily Potter, were part of an organization fighting against the Dark Lord. On the night of the Halloween fourteen years ago, the Dark Lord found where your parents were hiding and murdered them."

Andromeda paused the narration for it all to sink in. She was weary over how Harry might react over the news, but his expression betrayed no emotion that he was feeling.

"And you, Harry, survived the Dark Lord. He used a vile piece of magic called the Killing Curse, and you somehow survived and banished the Dark Lord."

"So who left me on the sidewalk on that Halloween?"

"That person," whispered Andromeda, "Was Albus Dumbledore. He was the headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry - the Harvard of the magical world - and is still the most powerful wizard alive. He usually takes matters into his own hands and often stood above the law, but always with good intentions. When you were eleven, you were supposed to receive an acceptance letter to Hogwarts, but, as you are very well aware of, you never did get one. Most of the wizarding world had faith in Dumbledore when he said you were in a safe location, but when you never registered for Hogwarts, people started asking questions."

"Do you mean to tell me that nobody tried to contact me during the ten years?"

"Sadly, yes. You see, everyone looked up to the man. He was the so-called leader of the light. Nobody doubted his judgment or his words or had any doubt when he said you were safe. And people were reluctant to investigate anything concerning the war. They are still scared of the evil that had once sought to destroy us, and they would do anything to forget and feign ignorance. Only when you failed to re-enter the magical world at the age of eleven did an official investigation take place. They discovered that the relatives Dumbledore left you with had never seen you, and further questioning of witnesses revealed that he left you in alone in a basket on your relatives front porch. he left you there on a porch! And Sirius! Sirius he... I will let him tell you his story..."

The sadness of the tale and the guilt she felt towards Harry, now that he was her daughter's saviour, proved to be too much for Andromeda to handle. The woman locked Harry into another embrace and wept onto his shoulder.

Harry patted the crying woman awkwardly, but his weariness of the Tonks family had disappeared.

"So what happened to Dumbledore?" Harry asked Ted.

"Well, the investigation led the ministry into believing he committed treason. He fled prosecution when the charges were made, and the only other time he had been spotted was only a few months ago when..."

Ted looked at Harry nervously, clearly believing that the boy might not cope well with the information.

"I really want to know."

"Okay. But this is only his claim without solid evidence: Dumbledore claims that the Dark Lord is back."

"Strange coincidence," Harry said nonchalantly, "Given that I am now 'back' in the magic world about the same time as this Dark Lord. If you don't mind, I would like to learn more about it if possible"

Pulling away from the boy, Andromeda nodded while wiping away her tears.

"Sorry for being so emotional. I'm usually very well composed."

"Too well composed!" Ted interjected, earning him a swat on the arm. "Cold even..."

"Anyway, we do have a few books about the downfall of the Dark Lord. I'll fetch you those in a bit, and I believe Sirius, my cousin and your... we can talk about that later, well he has a large library on the events of your parents' deaths. He was a very close friend to them. We will be contacting him shortly, with your permission of course."

"This is a lot to take in, but I would like to learn more from him, especially about my birth-parents" Harry nodded, "Who is this McGonagall that you wished to contact?"

"She is the current headmistress of Hogwarts. She took over after Dumbledore fled, and she has been actively trying to find you. I can vouch that she has no ill intentions towards you, and she is currently the most useful person you can have by your side. Oh, I can't wait to see her face when I bring her to meet you!"

"How does she know I'm still alive? Shouldn't I be presumed dead?"

"There is a magical bank called Gringotts. They are the solely responsible for the fortunes of the majority of the ancient and noble houses. Your family, the Potters, is one of them. Gringotts have very complex blood magic placed on the family vaults, so they can detect if the person trying to access the vault is actually part of the family, and they can also detect whether or not the family's bloodline has ended. Since you are the last Potter, and the bank stating that the Potter lineage is still kept alive, this means you had to be alive."

Harry slowly nodded. There was too much for him to learn and so little time. Every question he asked raised a series of new ones.

"Thank you for taking the time and explaining all of this to me. To be blunt, I'm finding it hard to believe in the existence of Dark Lords and secret societies."

"Definitely, it is very strange at first. But you will soon see that what we have told you is only the tip of an iceberg" Ted replied, "I'll go contact Sirius and McGonagall right away, and I will get you the heap of books Andi gave me when I was introduced to the magical world."

"That would be greatly appreciated, Ted," Harry smiled.

"Stop being so formal and polite!" Andi scolded, "We are above these courtesies. Now I bet you can't wait to see a certain somebody. I need to warn you, for your own good, that the girl is a bit too childish for her age. I think you are more mature than she will ever be."

"I have to agree with Andi," Ted joined it with a smirk. "I think we've tied you here long enough. Feel free to explore the house and stretch your legs. The washroom is the first door to the right."

The boy was thankful when he finally managed to excuse himself from the room and tried to take as long as possible in search of 'the loo.'

* * *

Note:

For plot purposes, Ted Tonks is a muggle-born.

In this world, the disappearance of Harry Potter in the early years created a cascade of events including the early release of Sirius Black and the deaths of a few characters.


	5. A Bedridden Girl

Walking down the small corridor on the second floor of the house, Harry peeked into an open door. To his relief, he found a black-haired girl lying quietly on the bed. She was dressed in dark gray pajamas, and her long untidy hair was fanned across the pillow. Harry silently walked into the room. The moment he sat down on the edge of the bed, Tonks sprang around and engulfed the boy in a bone-crushing hug.

"WOTCHER HARRY!" Tonks screamed while burying her head into Harry's chest, slightly muffling her voice.

"Hello there, _Nymphydora_!" Harry greeted, emphasizing her name purposefully, but found himself pushed head-first off the bed.

"Who in Merlin's bloody arse told you that... Damn it mum!" Tonks flustered, "Don't you dare call me that mister! I don't care if you saved me or not, if I catch you calling me that ever again, you will wish you were granted a swift death. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, supreme mistress Tonks," Harry replied from the floor.

"Now get up so I can hug you again!" Tonks laughed.

Harry eagerly complied and jumped back on the bed. Tonks flung her arms around the boy and the two broke into laughter.

"I'm finally out of the interrogation room I guess," Harry smirked.

"Hey! You should feel privileged! The room you were sleeping in is mine. You're so lucky to sleep in a bed a beautiful young lady had slept naked in the night before."

"So that was your room," Harry said, trying to ignore the last comment, "Why were the posters taken off the walls then?"

"Oh, those? Our posters are a bit different. Wait, she did tell you about magic, right?"

"Yes, she did," Harry replied with a smile.

"Then you know magic is just magical!" Tonks laughed at her own bad joke, "The images of our posters move around. I think my mum removed them so you won't be scared by the sudden freakishness."

Tonks sprang up on the bed and demonstrated some of the motions occurring in her posters through live-action imitation before jumping back on her bum and pulling Harry into another embrace.

"Are you sure you should be moving around like this?" Harry asked with concern.

"My mum is a pro. She could heal those wounds on me in a blink of an eye. It's magic."

"Yes, it is," Harry frowned. "Now I have to reconsider… everything I know about life. Quite shocking. Healing wounds like that as though nothing had happened."

Tonks pulled an arm's length away from Harry and looked into his emerald eyes. "In all seriousness though, thank you, Harry. If it weren't for you, I would be dead by now, or maybe even worse."

Harry pulled the girl back into an embrace. "You are safe now, Tonks, but how could you be so active already? From what your mother was saying, I thought you will be unconscious for at least a day."

"I was pretending to be in pain in front of mum so I could sleep in and have breakfast in bed! Those three scumbags last night didn't have the skill to harm me," Tonks screamed triumphantly as she strangled her pillow and shook it back and forth, taking her well-earned revenge. "The scariest was when they got my hand. I was lucky they didn't get my wand-hand, but it'll probably take a few days for it to fully heal. Oh, and there was the giant gash."

Tonks pulled down her pants and exposed her thighs. She lifted her leg and pointed at the thin silver scar on the otherwise flawless skin of her right thigh. Harry immediately turned his head around, his face boiling red.

"Taking a good look won't kill me, Harry," Tonks winked. "If you're a good boy, I might even let your hands wander a bit."

Harry shook his head nervously and closed his eyes, which caused Tonks to squeal with laughter.

"Alright, alright. I need to take that modesty out of you someday. Open your eyes, Harry, I'm under the covers now!"

"Don't tease me like that, Tonks!" Harry harrumphed, "My mind hasn't been corrupted like you!"

"Whatever," Tonks smirked but quickly returned to a serious expression, "So, are you feeling ok? You suffered more spell damage than me last night from shielding me..." Tonks blushed, "What spells did my mum say you were hit with, Harry?"

"She said I only have a few scratches and a mild fracture."

"WHAT!" Tonks roared, "That's impossible! You know that first spell you were hit with in the shop? That one is supposed to wipe your memories, but I guess the shit-for-brains messed up. Even if that one doesn't count, you were clearly hit by at a disarming charm and a stunner before you towered over my poor defenseless body like a gallant knight claiming his prize after saving a damsel in distress."

"You can never stop teasing me, even if we are talking about something serious, can you?" Harry sighed.

"Not even in your dreams," Tonks replied with a delighted clap of her hands, "Did they hit you with anything after you jumped on me as you tried to ravage my body?"

"Hey, that's not funny!" Harry glared and Tonks quickly apologized, "Well, I did feel a few impacts on my back, and the last spell flung me a couple feet away."

Tonks rested her head on Harry's shoulder and thought inwardly for a few moments before responding. "Those men are called Deatheaters - a very ironic name for the Dark Lord's followers don't you think - They wouldn't use mild impact hexes and a propelling charm. They are known to torture and kill for fun."

"But I feel fine though, and the spells that hit me didn't even cause any pain."

"Not feeling it doesn't mean you are fine Harry!" Tonks scolded, "Can't believe mum said you weren't hit by anything. Just hold on and wait a sec."

Before Harry had time to interpret what she meant, Tonks screamed at the top of her lungs, causing Harry's eardrums to ring.

Moments later, a very worried Andromeda stormed into the room.

"Mummy!" Tonks whimpered, "Harry tried to have his way with me! Look he even took off my pants!"

"Nymphadora!" both Harry and Andromeda yelled in unison.

"Hey!" Tonks glared at Harry. "I'm seriously gonna have to kill you little bugger now!"

"You will do no such thing!" an enraged Andromeda yelled, "How dare you, Nymphadora Tonks! The boy here had just saved you! How dare you joke like that!"

"Geez, mum, it must have been the potions talking," Tonks whispered, slightly afraid of her mother, "Thought it would be funny after how Harry groped my breasts..."

"Tonks!" Harry blushed.

"Harry would never do such a thing!" Andromeda stated, much to Harry's guilt and embarrassment.

"Could we get back to the issue?" Harry asked.

"Oh, that's right," Tonks nodded, "What diagnostic spells did you cast on him, mum?"

"Before you mentioned his using of magic, I thought he was a muggle," Andromeda admitted in embarrassment. "So I only did a surface body scan with a general detection spell, and it showed that nothing was wrong. We left him to wake naturally because sometimes muggles don't respond well to _enervate_. And then I returned my focus back to you Nymphy. "

"Stop calling me that!" Tonks yelled.

"You never complained _at home_ before."

"That's because nobody other than us heard it! Now that is not the issue. Did you cast any deeper magic detection spells on Harry?"

"No, should I have? You didn't mention Harry getting hit by a curse!"

"Because I was so dizzy and I nearly lost all my blood! He was hit by _many_ curses!"

"You didn't mention anything when you woke up either!" Andromeda snapped back.

"That's because I was _hungry_! But I told you about Harry's magic fireballs this morning!"

"Ok this won't get anywhere," Andromeda resigned, fully aware of her daughter's rejection to being blamed, "The good thing is that Harry is currently healthy. With your permission, Harry, I will cast a set of magic residue detection spells."

Harry nodded and stood up from the bed. He stretched out his arms in a T shape as he had done for security pat downs. The witches looked at his posture and snorted. Andromeda approached the mannequin-still Harry and waved her wand over his head while muttering a series of incantations. In an instant, a faint red glow was emitted from Harry, but the glow diminished until a cold darkness engulfed the boy.

"That is not good," Andromeda ran to the potion stand, "Not good at all. Drink these two right now! Come on."

Andromeda squeezed Harry's cheeks to force his mouth agape and nearly shoved the two vials down his throat.

"Now lie down," Andromeda pointed at the bed. "You move over, Nymphy!"

"What is happening to him," Tonks concernedly asked. "It must be very severe if you are forcing him to bed your daughter."

"Would you just shut it for once!" Andromeda scolded, "Harry, darling, just ignore her and lie in the bed. I have to get a few potions from my potion store downstairs."

Without another word, Andromeda ran out of the room, leaving Harry with a smirk and Tonks with a frown.

"How can you be so happy?" Tonks swatted his arm, "I am actually very scared for you right now. That joke was only to make you feel less nervous."

"I will be fine," Harry simply stated. If the severity of the spells hadn't affected him after an entire night, he doubted they would do anything at this point. The fact that the dangerous spells aimed to kill didn't affect him on impact gave him further peace of mind.

"How would you know? You're not the healer in this house, as my mother likes to point out."

"I should be fine."

Tonks stared dumbfoundedly at the boy as though he had just slapped her on the face. "How does anything tell you that you're fine? Sweet Merlin they made your head wonky," Tonks mockingly cradled his head into her chest, "It's all my fault! You were once a genius, the prodigy of the era, now you degraded into a crazy little boy. Don't worry honey, I will take care of your for the rest of your life. I will spoon feed you, or feed you mouth to mouth if you like that instead."

"Get off me," Harry muttered, not amused by the eccentric girl's mockery, "I was hit by some very powerful and deadly attacks, but I experienced absolutely nothing. It's either the spells failed or something had protected me from the spells. The most likely case is the latter."

"So you didn't turn dumb after all," Tonks sighed, "And I thought I had to shag you right now to repay you. Oh, well, we can sleep together platonically."

Tonks snuggled closer to Harry's arm as they rested on the bed.

"Could you please stop with the sex jokes," Harry pleaded. "Can we place a limit on it? How about three a day?"

"Never! Give me at least ten and a few playful swats to your bottom."

Harry rolled his eyes and refused to entertain that thought. He knew now that there was no talking common sense into the girl.

"You weren't like this when we first met…" Harry muttered to himself.

"Getting tired of me already?" Tonks gasped. "And I thought the first man to take my virtue would stay true."

Harry snorted at her statement, not believing a single word. The two lied on the bed quietly with Tonks' arms and legs sprawled across Harry until the sound of rushed footsteps grew louder and louder. Andromeda stormed into the room and carried six sinister-looking vials.

"Harry, these potions will taste a bit foul, but they are necessary. Just pinch your nose and swallow fast, ok?"

"Can you tell me what's in..."

Before Harry managed to complete his sentence, Andromeda took the chance and squeezed open his mouth and crammed all six vials in. Harry involuntary gulped the grim tasting fluids down and desperately gasped for breath.

"Was that safe?" Harry coughed. Basic instinct screamed that mixing these sinister bottled fluids was a dangerous idea.

"Should be fine. That was just a precaution," Andromeda said, "I'll need to contact McGonagall about this right away and set up a meeting. Don't let him out of the bed, Nymphy, and make sure he is comfortable. Got it?"

"Yes, ma'am!" Tonks saluted as her mother stepped out the room.

The two rested on the bed in silence. Eyes closed, Harry tried to inwardly sort through all the information he had recently received while Tonks attentively stared into his face. After a few minutes of stillness, the restless girl began to poke and probe Harry's face, and finally got his attention when she squeezed both his lips and nostrils shut.

"Tonks!" Harry whined, "Give me some space, I need to think about something."

"Aren't you curious though?" Tonks asked, "Isn't there a question you are dying to ask me?"

"Is there a question you want me to ask you?" Harry asked knowingly.

"It depends on if you want to ask me or not."

"Very well, I have no question I am dying to ask you."

"Harry!" Tonks pinched his arm, "You never asked me why I am being chased by the three evil villains! Come on, ask me!"

"Are you going to answer it though?" Harry asked.

"It depends on how you ask it."

"To tell you the truth, I am not that interested," Harry smirked, enjoying the feeling of being the one leading the conversation.

"Harry! You must want to know, even just a little. Don't you feel that restlessness of not knowing a secret?"

"I think you are feeling the restlessness of not being able to deny somebody from knowing the secret."

"If you don't ask, I won't talk to you again!" Tonks threatened.

"Fine, why were they trying to get you, Tonks?"

"Can't say," Tonks smirked triumphantly, "Ministry secrets."

"You are the worst spy in the world, you know that?"

"Insults won't get you anywhere, mister," Tonks stuck out her tongue. "But there is something that might."

Harry cocked an eyebrow and waited for the girl to continue.

"In our world, there is something called a life debt," Tonks said slowly, "When a person selflessly saves another, a magical bond is formed. Now, because you so dashingly carried me away from danger, I now owe you a life debt. So you can basically ask anything of me... I think."

"And the magic forces you to comply even if you don't want to?" Harry asked with a frown.

"I'm not totally sure since its more like folklore these days, but girls were often forced to marry or become concubines of the man who saved them in the stories."

"I won't do such a thing if you are worried..."

"It might not be that bad," Tonks muttered, "A man does gain points for saving a damsel from certain death."

"So you want to marry me?" Harry teased.

"Maybe not marry, but we certainly could do things even married couples don't do," Tonks winked as her hands began sliding down Harry's chest to his stomach.

The boy gulped nervously and quickly swatted Tonks's hand away much to her amusement.

"You're still ten years too young," Tonks smirked. "Need some growing to do before you even attempt to flirt with me!"

"Ugh... Why is your appearance different from before?" Harry desperately attempted to change the subject. "You looked a bit different when you first entered the shop compared to last night. Is it a disguise you made with magic?"

Tonks's eyes widened and her hands reached for her face. She quickly turned away from Harry, and her hair instantly changed from long and black to short and red.

"I'm a metamorphmagus," the girl whispered, "I can change my entire anatomy if I want to."

"That is actually so cool. Which one is your real..."

"Can you drop it?" Tonks interjected, "If you heard what they wanted to do to me just because I'm a metamorphmagus, then you would know why I don't like it at all."

"I'm sorry," Harry said softly, "I was being inconsiderate."

"No… I shouldn't have snapped at you like that," Tonks shifted back to face Harry, her face returning to the one Harry saw when they first met, "Last night still..."

"I know. You don't have to explain."

"Thank you," she whispered.

The two fell silent. Tonks continued to stare into Harry's emerald eyes and Harry returned to his thoughts.

"It's pointless for me to be resting," Harry said after a long pause, "Teach me everything you know about magic!"

Tonks smiled and knew exactly where to start.

"There is this sport called Quidditch..."


	6. A Cold Stone Table

Note:

I apologize for the typo in Chapter 4. I meant to type TED TONKS IS A MUGGLE (NOT MUGGLE-BORN)! Never would I have guessed the first private message I would receive is one filled with rage and flame over that mistake. Seeing all the reactions is rather amusing, so I don't think I will be correcting it.

If I offended anyone, I sincerely apologize. Thanks for all the reviews and such.

I guess I should say a little about myself. My name is _ (fill in your favourite name), and I am _ (fill in your favourite number) years-old. I live in the magical lands of _ (fill in your favourite mythological location), and I am a proud _ (fill in your favourite barbaric occupation).

Hope you enjoyed my unofficial introduction and Thanks for Reading!

* * *

Chapter 6

Harry sat on the ground in Tonks's room staring out the darkened window into the night. Legs folded, he stayed motionless surrounded by heaps of opened books forming a paper fort around the boy.

Tonks silently stepped into the room without Harry noticing. Her crimson red hair emphasized by her shimmering black nightgown. The girl stalked towards the silent boy and pounced on his back.

"WOTCHER!" Tonks laughed as she flung her arms around his waist.

"Stop it, Tonks," Harry smiled, turning around to look at the girl. "Where are your mother and father?"

"Dad's already asleep. He went to check up on your shop today and found that it was still in one piece. Mum's not back yet, and she wouldn't tell me where she was going other than she is running some errands for you."

"I have to thank them tomorrow," Harry said, "What time is it right now?"

"It's well past midnight, mister!" Tonks growled, "You locked yourself with my books for the entire day. I thought you were going to come out for lunch or dinner!"

"Sorry, there was just so much to... learn, but I now have a better grasp over all the confusing things."

"Well, you should sleep soon. Mum said that she is taking you to Gringotts tomorrow for some reason. I don't think you have an account though, so it's probably not for money."

"This book here says otherwise," Harry pointed at the title _Noble Houses of Great Britain._ "I'm betting that there should be at least a few coins left for me."

"Gringotts is a wizarding bank, Harry. The families in that book are all very old and rich. No offense, but you're probably neither."

"Are there many Potter families then?" Harry asked in confusion, "The book states that the Potters are one of the thirteen founding families, and your mother said I was the last Potter, so I assumed that the Potter family mentioned in the book is mine."

"Hold your horses mister," Tonks stared, "Your last name is Fitzroy, right?"

"But my birth family is the Potter family."

"But the last Potter... YOU ARE HARRY FUCKING POTTER? THAT EXPLAINS THE SCAR! I KNEW IT ALL ALONG! I knew it..." Tonks screamed as she began shaking the boy like a rag doll.

Pushing her painful claws aside, Harry massaged his tender shoulders.

"Sorry, I thought your mother would have mentioned it to you."

"No, she didn't! Why didn't you say anything! You had enough time before you locked yourself up after breakfast! And to think we even slept together!"

Once again ignoring her last comment, Harry sighed. "Well, I am Harry Potter, but I am also still Harry Fitzroy. Nothing has changed, Tonks, other than my discovering of the magical world."

"But now it means you're so bloody rich!" Tonks exclaimed, "BLAH! I should have accepted your proposal this morning. Oh, what a fool I have been."

"I sometimes don't know if you are joking or not," Harry sighed in defeat. No matter how much composure he had, he still found himself at a loss for words before the girl.

"And that's how we should keep it," Tonks smirked. "Now how about we ditch these books you find so sexy and have an enjoyable conversation before we go to bed."

"We?" Harry gulped.

Tonks winked and crooked a finger at him, signaling him to join her on the bed seductively.

"We don't have a guest bedroom, so you have to either sleep with me or my parents."

"I-I'll take the couch," Harry stammered.

"There is no escape Mr. POTTER!" Tonks laughed menacingly. Whipping out her wand, she locked the door magically and floated Harry into her lap.

"That's not fair!" Harry complained, face turning red.

"Life is not fair, deal with it," Tonks said as she began tickling the helpless teen.

* * *

The next morning, Harry discovered that Tonks did indeed have a guest bedroom. Nymphadora received a scolding from her mother for binding him to the bed as a snuggle toy for the entire night.

After a relatively calm and peaceful breakfast, Harry changed into a set of Ted's robes which were 'magicked' into his size. Harry thought Tonks was about to change to more formal wizarding attire but was regrettably informed that she would be wearing her extra small Beatles tank top and a pair of short shorts to the Gringotts meeting. Although Harry wasn't expecting regular means of transportation, he was in no way prepared to lose all his stomach contents when he discovered firsthand the effects of floo travel.

Once he arrived at Gringotts, Harry, Tonks, and Andromeda were escorted into a private assembly chamber, a marble room with an oval stone table in the center allowing for twelve seats, where a very regal Scottish old woman and an anxious black-haired man, who looked slightly ragged, sat waiting.

"Mr. Potter, my name is Minerva McGonagall, and this man here is Sirius Black," Minerva introduced as Harry, Tonks, and Andromeda settled into the room.

"Very nice to meet you Mrs. McGonagall, Mr. Black," Harry smiled wearily.

"You have much to learn Mr. Potter," Sirius said in grave decorum. "I am the head of the Ancient and Noble House of Black, and you will address me accordingly."

"I am sorry Lord Black. If you insist on the formalities, I am the head of the Ancient and Noble House of Potter, and you will address me accordingly."

"Not yet you're not! Tonks must have taught you that answer!" Sirius laughed as he spun around in his chair, "I'm just joking with you Harry, you never have to be formal around me. It's been so many bloody years! If not for Headmistress McGonagall sitting here, I would be cradling you right now!"

"Mr. Black, behave yourself!" Minerva glared.

"You're still acting like a ten-year old," Tonks sighed. "When will you ever grow up."

"What about you, cousin?" Sirius smirked, "Now that you are already twenty-"

"SHUT YOUR MOUTH!" Tonks snapped as she turned to Harry, "Don't listen to him mister, I am as young as you, got it?"

Harry nodded feverishly while Sirius chuckled.

"Trying to corrupt such an innocent soul already?" Sirius grinned evilly, "He is my godson, so technically you are cousins once removed. Now I don't support inbreeding, but you young folks can do whatever you want. As long as Harry consents."

Tonks tried to formulate a witty response, but her severe case of blushing stopped her from saying anything.

"Ahem," the goblin sitting at the far end of the table coughed, "Get friendly on your own time, I am here for official business."

"Spoilsport," Sirius coughed back.

McGonagall shot him another warning glare and turned her attention to the goblin. "We are ready to begin."

"My name is Snithear, general account manager for the Potter family," the goblin introduced, "Our business here today is to discuss the inheritance of Mr. Potter, the adoption and guardianship of Mr. Potter, and discuss any issue that might arise. Before we begin, I will require three drops of blood from Potter heir apparent to formally identify him."

Upon Snithear's signal, a smaller goblin carrying a small silver knife and a stone basin the size of a small table approached Harry.

"Shall we begin?" the goblin asked Harry, who was not enjoying the look on the goblin's face.

"What should I - AH!"

The goblin sliced the palm of Harry's hand before he finished his words, and held the stone basin next to his palm and collected three drops of the splashing blood. Rubbing his palm, Harry discovered that it was already healed and the pain had left the moment it came.

"Very good Mr. Potter," Snithear said nonchalantly, "You are currently underage, so you may not access your main family vault unless explicitly stated in your parents' will, which to my understanding does not exist. There is a trust vault with a yearly salary of a eight hundred galleons active since your birth, and you may access it whenever you wish. The amount in your vault is capped at twenty-four thousand galleons. Your trust vault number is 687, and this is the key to access it. This bag here is a bottomless coin pouch directly connected to your vault, and only you may use it. Are there any questions about banking affairs at this point?"

"Yes I do have a few, but none of them are in need of an immediate explanation."

"Very good Mr. Potter. Any financial records will be in this folder, and I will give you a copy at the end of our session."

Harry nodded.

"Now we must discuss the matter concerning your legal guardianship," Snithear said.

"His guardian will be me," Sirius eagerly stated, "His parents named me his godfather, and I will fully honour that responsibility."

"I am afraid that is not an option, Lord Black," Snithear grinned, "Both his legal and magical guardians are already instated."

"That bloody old git fled from the law!" Sirius raged, "He can't have guardianship over Harry anymore!"

"I am not talking about Mr. Dumbledore," the goblin grinned widened to the point of sheer horror, "He has never been the young man's guardian. The roles have been granted to Elizabeth Florent Fitzroy née Humphrey and William Cladian Fitzroy fourteen years ago on November the fourth."

"My parents..." Harry whispered in shock.

"Hold on," Tonks interrupted, "Aren't they Harry's muggle parents who own the coffee shop?"

"They do own the Fitzroy Fountain," answered Snithear, "But I would not go so far as to call them muggles."

"They are squibs then," Sirius muttered, "How can they do this? They adopted him only days after Voldemort's attack, but they never mentioned that the Harry is alive to the rest of the world? How could they! They have no right to..."

"I will not stand to hear my parents being insulted," Harry calmly interjected while shooting a stern glare at Sirius, "If not for them, I would have frozen to death on the streets. They gave me a home and they raised me as their son. I owe my life to my parents. I do not doubt for one moment that they had my best interest at heart when they decided not to share this information with me or my information with the rest of the world."

"Well said, Mr. Potter," Minerva applauded, though Sirius looked slightly wounded, "Loyalty, trust, and love are qualities that you know well. But I would like to know how this came to be? How was Harry hidden so close in London for all these years?"

"That I cannot say," Snithear replied, "We are not obligated to share this information, so we did not disclose it. Anything else you must ask the Fitzroys themselves, but looking at their recent travel payments, it might be a long time until you can contact them."

Sirius stared in disbelief. "Where did they..."

"I do not know," Snithear interjected, "And even if I did, I cannot tell you. If you have no more questions, I will leave the room for your privacy."

"Thank you very much," Minerva nodded, "We will summon for you if further questions arise."

The two goblins left without another word, closing the large stone walls behind them. The meeting room was now silent, with each occupant lost in her own thoughts.

"Sooooooooo," Tonks broke the silence, "Harry's parents are actually magical then. How come I've never heard of the Fitzroy name?"

"Neither have I," Sirius shook his head, "And I was forced know all of the 'respectable' families as my dear mother used to say."

"They might be a second-generation muggle born family," Andromeda proposed, "We will have to do a bit of research and investigation, since meeting Harry's parents is not an option at this point."

Seeing that the boy is still deep in thought, Tonks wrapped an arm around Harry's shoulder.

"This has been a lot of information," Tonks said, "Before we dig too deep into this, we should give Harry and Sirius some time to catch up. I'll leave you guys alone and go run a couple of errands. Tell me if you guys need me to do anything."

"Hang on a minute, Ms. Tonks," Minerva shot Tonks a glare, sending shivers down the young girl's spine, "We have yet to discuss the attack that occurred two nights ago."

Tonks flinched but did not allow her nervousness to show. "There isn't much to say. I was doing the job assigned to me, and I came across the three Deatheaters. They ambushed me and summoned my wand, but I was able to escape to Harry's shop. I guess my mum filled you in on most of it?"

"Ms. Tonks, do you take us for fools?" McGonagall's eyebrows twitched dangerously, flaring her intimidating temper, "I have personally spoken to Director Bones about your assignment and the reason of the attack, and she had stated that your duty was to simply patrol the ministry entrance from eight in the morning to six in the evening. There was no reason for you to be about at midnight around the ministry. Furthermore, how did you manage to simply 'come across' a Deatheater ambush while you were off duty?"

"Well, professor, you see..."

"DO NOT LIE TO ME MS. TONKS!" McGonagall screamed, causing Tonks to yelp and shield herself using Harry, "YOU COULD HAVE GOTTEN KILLED. NOW TELL ME THE TRUTH OR MERLIN FORBID WHAT MIGHT BECOME OF YOU!"

"I-I really can't tell you, professor," Tonks managed to say.

"Do not call me professor, Ms. Tonks," Minerva shook her head disapprovingly, "I never taught anyone of mine to lie and throw herself in danger. I am disappointed in you. Tell me the truth before I am forced to take certain actions."

Tonks looked pleadingly at the enraged headmistress. Upon seeing that her puppy-dog eyes were a lost cause on the stern woman, she turned her eyes to Harry and Andromeda, but both simply frowned in concern. She then turned desperately to her father and Sirius, the two people who usually relented to all her whims, but she found none of the support she had expected. Returning her gaze to rest upon Harry, she found the motivation to tell whatever secrets she was holding. She smiled ruefully at the young boy, face aged with a maturity rarely manifested in her, and nodded.

"Very well, Headmistress," Tonks said quietly, turning to Sirius, "Why don't you take Harry to his vaults or shopping?"

"I should be..." Sirius began but was shot down by Tonks's glare of warning, "Okay. Bonding time it is then, pup. Come with your hairy dogfather -you get the joke right- who is going to teach you everything you will need to know about your world and there is much catching up to do. How I've missed you! I still remember your first diaper change like it was only yesterday."

Sirius marched from his seat and led Harry towards the door by his shoulder. Harry took one last glance at Tonks to see the sadness in her eyes and a hint of regret. Knowing it was not his place to object, Harry followed his godfather out of the automatically opened stone doors and into the cold lobby of the busy bank.


	7. A Forgotten Lair

Chapter 7:

Sirius was overjoyed at the opportunity to spend some quality time with his reunited godson. The excited man stopped at nothing to make sure Harry had the best of the magical world. Harry's new extendable trunk was filled with custom acromantula silk and dragonhide tunics, vests, boots, and robes. The shops the two had visited looked as though they were robbed, but Sirius's spending streak did not even come close to halting, much to Harry's dismay and growing concern. Now standing before Gringotts again, Sirius pulled out his long checklist of items and ran a finger down the list.

"Many of the items here will have to be ordered," Sirius grimaced, "I am surprised at how many of these are classified as restricted now. During my Hogwarts days, you could get any of these necessities at a regular shop."

"I don't believe - what did you call it - 'bottled fiendfire' is something that is even remotely legal," Harry frowned, "I don't see why I ever need half of the things you put on that list."

"You're no fun," Sirius sighed, "Imagine all the havoc you can cause with these beauties. Guess we have only one thing left we can buy today."

"A wand," Harry nodded. The young man was most excited for his own wand. Knowing the existence of magic or seeing it performed was one thing, but knowing that he will be able to control magic for himself was something far more significant. The wand is more than a tool, it was a symbol that Harry was part of this society.

"Usually people would suggest Ollivander's..."

"But you are not the usual person, right?" Harry sighed.

"No, I am not," Sirius grinned, "And you're not either, pup. We will be going somewhere not well known but so much better."

"A shop for the wealthier minority I presume?"

"You betcha!" Sirius laughed, "I hate all these pureblood customs and supremacist gits, but I have to admit, they do get the best of everything."

"What's the big difference between Ollivander's and wherever you had in mind?"

"You'll see," Sirius replied ominously as he led the way into a dark alley.

After multiple sharp turns down narrow alleys and getting lost somewhere along the way, Sirius finally stopped in front of a small redbrick shop with a certain rustic charm. The moment Sirius stepped on the doorway, a series of clicks clinked from within the door and it flew open with great force. Signaling for Harry to follow, Sirius marched into the darkened interior of the shop.

Harry's eyes wandered feverishly as he walked past the open door. The simple exterior of the shop completely juxtaposed its disheveled interior. Hundreds of different wooden instruments were displayed behind glass shelves and thousand more laid silently on the walls and even hung from the ceiling. The sizes of these wooden items ranged from small wooden rings to ten feet long staffs bent in odd angles. Overall, the shop was quite overwhelming.

"This is..."

"Where we will find a magical instrument for you," spoke a softly melodic yet powerful voice from behind the pair of customers. Harry jumped as the doors slammed shut and shuttered at the foreign presence, one which seemed ancient beyond comprehension.

"Don't scare me like that, Selene!" Sirius yelped, but a toothy grin betrayed his amusement.

"Ah, young Lord Black, how time has changed you," Selene said as she stepped from the shadows into the dim light of the shop. Her deathly pale skin shimmered faintly as though she was covered by tiny beads of water. Black silk robes hung loosely from her slender body, though they still could not hide away her shapely curves. The darkness of the walls blended with her pitch-black hair, but a pair of blood red eyes shined like a beacon in the night. Her face seemed unnaturally young and beautiful; her expression revealed wisdom impossible for her youthful appearance.

"You still look sexy as hell!" Sirius whistled.

"Repeating what I told you so many years ago, I am old enough to be the founder of your house," Selene smiled back but never taking her eyes off Harry.

"Still doesn't mean I can't try," Sirius mutter.

"Such a cute little boy," Selene laughed as she stepped forward, looking at Sirius for the first time. "We should proceed with intended business before young _Lord_ Black gets sidetracked again."

"Oh, yes. That..." Sirius snapping out of his daydream, "Young Lord Potter here needs a wand worthy of his lordship."

"Sirius..." Harry sighed. For the entire morning, Sirius had introduced Harry as Lord Potter to anyone who wished to listen, which happened to be everyone. Since Andromeda never informed anyone else of Harry's return, it came as a shock when Sirius suddenly proclaimed Harry's return. Sirius informed Harry that his plan was to rile up the entire magic community so that Harry can make a grand reentry, much to Harry's discomfort.

"Master Potter has arrived at last," Selene smile with a small bow of courtesy, one which Harry returned immediately.

"Hey! Why am I young Lord Black, but you call this little cub master?"

"There are things that are meant to be," Selene suddenly appearing behind Harry and rested her crimson lips on the lobe of his ear. She silently slithered her arms protectively around Harry's shoulders, licked her lips seductively, and whispered: "There are also other things that are never meant to happen at all."

"Damn cub," Sirius said with a grin, "First you seduce my cousin Nymphy and now the great Selene? Sweet Merlin I am proud of you."

"Sometimes I do not know whether I should fear your insanity or be amused by it," Selene said to Sirius. Harry was as still as a statue. He felt her warmth pressing into him and her sanguine lips so close to his own. Some parts of him wanted to break free of her enchantment, but other parts wish to bathe in it.

"What do you mean?" Sirius asked in confusion.

"Nothing important," Selene replied quickly and planted a firm kiss on Harry's cheek, causing him to blush as red as Selene's eyes.

Her slim figure darted into the darkness of the shop and she signaled for Harry and Sirius to follow.

Sirius shrugged and led Harry into one of the many dust-covered aisles of the dimly lit shop. They found Selene standing in front of an obsidian chalice holding three medium-sized vials in a pool of crimson red fluid.

"I need you to fill these three vials with your blood," Selene smiled happily at Harry. For a moment, Harry thought he saw a flash of carnal hunger in her eyes but quickly dismissed the thought.

"Is this regular procedure for purchasing a wand?" Harry asked warily.

"I didn't have to do that when she found my wand for me..." Sirius frowned.

"Master Potter is somebody special," Selene winked at Harry. "Well come on now, don't be shy."

The dark-haired girl slithered her arm under Harry's and dragged him to the chalice. She gently supported his wand-arm and placed a serrated stone knife in his open palm. Wrapping her finger over his, her body pressed into Harry's back as she brought his hand and the knife to his left wrist and slowly pressed into his skin, as though savoring the moment, causing the release of a warm pool of blood. Her petite yet strong form kept Harry from flinching in pain. In a swift motion, she brought his bleeding wrist above the first vial and allowed the blood to flow freely down the tips of his fingers and into the awaiting vessel. She then repeated this two more times after the first vial was completely full, but allowed the third vial to only fill up half way. Surprisingly, not a single drop of Harry's warm blood splashed outside of the vials during Selene's maneuvering.

"The last one isn't full yet," Harry gulped, unable to tear his eyes away from his still bloody wrist.

"Mhm," Selene replied nonchalantly and brought her cool lips to Harry's bleeding wrist. The gushing red blood painted streaks across Selene's pale, white skin, and made her crimson, full lips even more luscious.

"What are you..." Harry's words died in his mouth when Selene pressed a finger to his lips. Sirius froze but continued watching Selene with widened eyes.

After a few long seconds, Harry began to feel light-headed. His body gently swayed and his knees threatened to cave in. Sensing his reaction, Selene tore her mouth away from Harry's wrist and instead wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed her crimson lips onto Harry's. Her breath was surprisingly hot compared to her cold lips, and the taste of his own warm blood increased Harry's dizziness. The kiss was neither perverse nor chaste, but full of demand - a hunger in the beautiful girl's lips which sought desperate salvation in the lips they touched. Harry could not bring back his lucidity – his will possessed by an instinct to reciprocate the sensations he felt. Neither of the intertwined two knew how much time had past, but they were broken apart by a panicking Lord Black.

"What in the bloody hell is going on here!" Sirius demanded in distraught as his eyes darted between the two blood-soaked figures, "Selene! He's only fifteen! He could be your great grandson! Oh, Merlin the blood! What…"

Sirius Black continued to rant as Selene quickly stoppered all three blood-filled vials and bandaged Harry's bleeding wrist.

"Are you even listening to me?" Sirius stomped his foot loudly in hopes of gaining her attention.

Not dignifying that with a response Selene's attention never left the dumbfounded boy who stood motionlessly, jaw slightly agape. Selene pecked his cheek lightly as she pulled out a vial of a pinkish-red fluid, "Drink this blood-replenishing potion and you will feel less lightheaded."

Harry complied diligently and felt the rush of blood returning his motor functions and the brain he had forgotten he possessed.

"Why did you take the blood?" Sirius asked more sternly, "But more importantly why did you just kiss my godson?"

"I lost my composure," Selene answered with a shrug as her predatory gaze fell back on Harry, "It might do you well to remember that I'm a pureblood vampire. And to us, some blood carries more power than others… And, to me, Master Harry here has the most irresistible blood. One I have not tasted in many lifetimes..."

Harry shuddered at her last whispered comment and pulled himself away from the seducing girl.

"Umm…" Harry began, but foolishly stood there with his mouth open.

Selene smiled apologetically at the boy and turn to the basin to pocket the three vials of blood.

"The two vials of blood are to be used for the making of a bloodstone for Master Harry," Selene smiled, licking her lips in a full circle, "The scent still sends shivers down my spine."

"What do you mean a Bloodstone?" Sirius asked in confusion, but the tension in his form visibly tightened. "I thought only ancient vampires or whoever have those jewels… Are you telling me they are literally made from blood?"

"Yes," Selene answered nonchalantly as she took a step towards Harry, who in turn fled behind the protection of Sirius like a wounded animal, "Bloodstones are the ultimate fruit of alchemy. The wizardkind is more familiar with a similar form, but less pure, known as the philosopher's stone. Both stones have great power and potential, albeit for opposite purposes, purposes I am not about to discuss at this moment."

"You wish to create such a stone out of Harry's blood," Sirius stated as he drew his wand, "Sounds to me you wish him harm!"

"Always so brash and fast to… conclude," Selene smirked, brushing aside his wand with the back of her hand. "Only the bearer of the blood used to make the bloodstone has the ability to command its powers. I have reasons, you can say both selfish and altruistic, to guarantee the safety of the young master, and help him unlock his true potential. But it's not something you need to, or would, understand, Lord Black."

"You… ugh… love the boy?" Sirius guessed wildly as he sheathed his wand, "Is that what the kiss was?"

"Don't ask questions with consequences you cannot comprehend," Selene warned sternly. Though she was visibly trying to control herself, a wave of anger and fragility emanated from her core. "But I vow upon my honour and blood that all I will do... and have done is for the young master's sake… and maybe a bit for mine."

"Mhmm…" Sirius nodded, not fully convinced, "Let us say I do believe you have his best interests at heart, but," looking behind his shoulders at the cowering boy, "I think you broke him."

"Fear not," Selene projected loudly on tipped-toes, as though trying to penetrate her voice through Sirius and reach the ears of the boy behind him, "The young Master Harry will be wanting more soon enough, and he knows where to come…"

Sirius coughed into his fist, for the first time truly uncomfortable.

"Umm how about we get the wand for Harry and we will be out of here?" Sirius suggested hopefully.

"Tsk, tsk, is foreplay over already, Lord Black?" Selene replied as she walked away with a dazzling swaying of her hips, "I would have thought the drooling dog to last a bit longer, or maybe not."

"Okay, you win!" Sirius said in defeat, "I won't bother or hit on you anymore! Happy? Now the wand?"

"The puppy learned a valuable lesson today," Selene said from the shadows on the room, distinctive clinging of glass vials sent waves of echoes, "But for the wand, I fear there is nothing which can control the power of Master Harry's magic. He will find no bond here."

"No ugh… bond huh," Sirius muttered as he rubbed the back of his head, "Then can you make one for him?"

"No wand born from my hands can hope to understand or command the scope of Harry's magic," Selene said as she continued to work in the dark, "And there will never be one of that aptitude to be born."

"Your way of talking is making Harry sound like the next Merlin himself," Sirius joked.

"Is he not?" Selene muttered from the shadows, barely audible.

"Now I can't tell if you are joking or not…" Sirius sighed, "I'll just take the poor shivering boy and leave before he has another panic attack. When will you have that stone ready?"

"Harry will know when it is time, and he will know how to use it when the time comes."

Sirius nodded in confusion but pressed no more. He turned around, placing an arm around Harry's shoulder, and guided the still shell-shocked boy towards the long-awaited exit. As Sirius turned the doorknob, a sudden intrigue suddenly sprang into his mind.

"I might have missed something," Sirius said with a sharp turn of his head towards the darkest corner of the room, where Selene most likely was, "You said only two vials of blood were needed… then what is the third vial going to be used for?"

"Oh, you were paying attention," Selene hummed joyously. "There must be some payment for my hard work. And besides, who would deny a beautiful lady from her nightly delights? Fly now little pup... and don't turn back!"

With the end of her words, Sirius was thrown out the door by an invisible force while Harry was seemingly lifted and placed outside. As Sirius climbed to his feet and dusted off his robes, he could have sworn he _heard_ the woman's wicked smile appear on her face.

* * *

Notes:

Hey people, sorry for the great delay. I had to pay Spain a visit, and I also had to move from one apartment to another. Life is troublesome. I hope you guys enjoy the story so far. I love the constructive criticism and COMPLEMENTS, and I am open to plot, character, or overall suggestions.

Tell me if you like Selene. There could potentially be a great role for her later on.

I once again apologize for writing muggle-born instead of muggle. I was sleep-deprived and very tired. Probably drunk too.

It's currently 3am at my location so excuse me if I made another typo


	8. A Marble Wand

Chapter 8:

"What happened to him Sirius?" Tonks asked nervously as she continued to pinch the cheeks of a dazed Harry, "Did he hit his head on a bad curse?"

"I don't know how to describe what happened," Sirius said with a shrug as he ordered a triple scoop chocolate ice-cream from Florean's and began counting his fingers, "First, we went shopping for a wand, second, Harry got his wrist slit, third, he had his blood sucked, and fourth, he was snogged senseless by a bloody vampire. I believe that was his first too from his reaction."

"HE WAS WHAT?" Tonks screamed as she began to strangle Harry, who did not react, "I trusted him with you for only two hours and you got him raped?"

"Hey, it wasn't my fault! The woman jumped on him before I had the time to react… Well and then I was stunned for a few minutes before I could do anything. And I am the guardian here! Only I get to trust Harry with other people!"

"Well you are a bloody awful guardian!" Tonks screamed while stomping her feet childishly, but her expression betrayed her amusement of the current predicament, "All his first times were supposed to be with me! Come on Harry! We are gonna rent a room, and I will take all your other first times!"

"Whaa?" Harry blurted as he resisted Tonks' death grip, "Where are we? Where did Selene go?"

"Harry, pup," Sirius said barely holding back his laughter, "We left that place half an hour ago. We even picked up the robes we ordered after we left. Don't you remember？＂

Harry blushed at the comment and shook his head to clear his thoughts.

"Now you are safe in my arms," Tonks cried dramatically, catching the attention of everyone in the ice-cream parlour, "I won't let that wicked woman have her nasty way with you anymore!"

"Umm, I don't think that would be necessary," Harry murmured, "I'm never going back there… never… But I still need a wand."

"That's easy!" Tonks giggled as she dragged Harry out the shop, "Ollivander makes the best wands in Britain! I dunno why that mad dog took you to some pitiful shop with a crazy vampire."

"Wait!" Sirius screamed from within Florean's. "I still haven't paid for my ice cream!"

"We'll meet you back here in an hour or two!" Tonks screamed back as she continued away from the shop, "If not, then don't wait up!"

Turning her attention to Harry, she caught his arm and held him tightly by her side as she half dragged him to the front of the musty old wand shop.

"Get in there, Harry," Tonks nudged as her gaze fixated on her feet which fiddled aimlessly, "Ollivander will get you a wand."

"You're not coming?" Harry asked, appearing mostly recovered from his previous shock.

"Ugh… the guy gives me the creeps," Tonks answered with a blush, "I kinda had an incident in his shop… but that's unimportant! I will meet you out here when you finish, and try not to take too long!"

Harry sighed and shook his head at her antics. Not allowing her words to get to him, he quickly hopped into the shop, but found that he had to agree a bit with the girl. The shop was a mess. Each step Harry took was carefully maneuvered so that he didn't step on wand, paper or… things that were best left undescribed. Arriving at the counter, Harry heard the rustling of boxes and the quick footsteps coming from deeper within the shop.

"Harry Potter at last!" the ruffled haired old man who reminded Harry of Einstein said as he stepped behind the counter, "I would have certainly bet that you would go to Selene! And, by the state of your wrist, I see that you have!"

"How did you... And you must be…" Harry left his question hanging. He was surprised to find that like Selene, the old man already knew he would arrive.

"Where are my manners," the old man said with a frown, "I am Garrick, Garrick Ollivander, or so I think…"

That last statement slightly uneased the already distraught boy. There was something in his voice which gave an impression of great age.

"Or so you think?"

"Names are beside the point. Call me Al for all I care."

"That's… very nice?" Harry answered, unsure of the proper response to such a statement.

"People come and go," Ollivander said with sudden solemnness, "They ask for wands but nothing more. Spoken names are only titles, but magic and spirit are what makes a person unique. When you truly begin to understand, that is when you realize you understand nothing at all. Sometimes the simplest of things have the most complex stories behind them. I infer that Selene must have mentioned she could not create nor does she possess a wand suitable for you?"

Harry nodded, slightly concerned at the sudden change of his attitude and speech.

"I am sorry to inform you that I too do not have a suitable wand for you," Ollivander said with a small grin.

"How would you know?" Harry inquired in slight desperation, "Surely the two of you can't tell simply from appearance that if there or if there is not a wand suitable for me. I see that almost everyone in the alley possesses a wand, so finding a wand for a person should not be so difficult."

"You are edging close to the truth, but still your knowledge has yet to grow. If all that you seek is a wand, then choose any of the ones I have in this shop and I will gladly sell it to you."

"But there is no bond," Harry sighed in defeat.

"The wand chooses the wizard," Ollivander nodded, "You will understand one day. A wand is not just a vessel for the application of magic, it is also what shapes your core; it is a mentor, to state simply."

"And why am I an exception? I do not get to perform magic just because I can't find this 'mentor'?"

"How can a student teach the master?" Ollivander whispered.

"I don't understand…"

"Nor should you" the old man interrupted sharply, "It is not yet your time. But all will be clear soon enough – sooner than we might hope."

"Do all of you speak so cryptically?" Harry asked in annoyance. The old man gave him many things to ponder, and a great deal more to understand.

"Only the ones who know what they are actually saying," laughed Ollivander, "Or the crazies. To explain plainly, wand makers must be able to see magic as though it has substance. That is the only way for us to bind magically powerful conductors into stationary vessels. Each wand has a potential, and it will be filled by the wielder. But when a wand has too much potential or a wielder too much power, then the incompatibility occurs. This is an oversimplification, but the general abstract is true."

"So, because… I have too much power – which I truly doubt – I cannot utilize, no, bond with a wand?" Harry pressed.

"Yes, but that doesn't mean you cannot perform magic," Ollivander said with a smile, "The golden age of magic was when no vessels were exploited, and true magic based on pure intent was performed. The path will be paved in hardships, but if you stay true, you will not come to regret it."

"The wand is merely a tool?" Harry asked, "You make it sound as though a focal point for magic, a template with restricted functions."

"You are very wise," Ollivander said with a sad smiled, one full of indecipherable nostalgia. "To the majority, the wand is their best ally, but to a select few, a wand will only be a hindrance from true greatness."

"And you believe I'm in the select-few category?" harry scoffed in disbelief.

"I don't just believe, I know," Ollivander stated sternly, "Although no wand will be able to assist you in advancing your magic, there are still vessels you can use to ease the flow of your magic, but they are unfortunately very rare."

"I understand," Harry nodded, "Thank you for your time and for the... enlightenment."

As Harry was about to leave, Ollivander reached beneath the counter and pulled out an old and dusty leather case.

"Before you leave, master Potter," Ollivander said with hesitation, "Could you please satisfy an old man's curiosity?"

Harry considered for a moment before responding, but he relented with a nod.

"As long as its within my abilities."

Ollivander's eyes shined brightly at the response and eagerly, but carefully, lifted the lid of the case, revealing a thin white wand, unnaturally perfect, which looked more like smoothed white marble. It had no design, for it was a simple white rod with rounded tips, uniform in diameter, but even with its minimalistic nature, a primal power radiated from within.

"Would you please," Ollivander unflinchingly stared at the boy like so many other customers before him, "Give this a gentle wave?"

Although slightly cautious, Harry had not yet truly held a wand. His curiosity and fascination urged him to grasp it within his hands. Harry ran a finger down the cold, smooth surface of the wand. A gentle numbness, like light stings from an electric current, travelled up his arm and sent shivers down his spine. Slowly, he dug four fingers under the wand and lifted it from its confines. As he fully wrapped his hand around the powerful object firmly and waved it in a fluid circular motion, a sudden surge of energy sparked through his body bouncing from nerve to nerve. Instantly blinded by a white flash in his eyes, Harry's vision blurred as he swayed for balance. His ears were slammed with a fusion of melodies; some where unnaturally foreign, unearthly sounds which were never meant to be, and others, sounds distant and distorted, could barely be distinguished.

" _Not Harry! Please... have mercy... have mercy... Not Harry!_ Not Harry _! Please — I'll do anything..."_

"Master Harry… can you hear me…"

" _Why… Don't you understand! It was for you! It was always you…"_

"You better put the wand down now…"

" _Is this your answer… No… I do not… want your apologies! Let… this severe our bond… I care not about the pain you foolish woman! My arm… Ha, how poetic…"_

"You need to let go!"

" _It's bound… The magic… Flowing fierce like a river… Now unstoppable…"_

A sudden jolt of coldness spread across Harry's body as he felt the object leave his hands. His mind instantly cleared and the dizziness saturated. Harry numbly flexed the fingers which had just grasped the wand. Looking at Ollivander, the boy saw a quick closing of the box lid and the powerful artifact shielded from view.

"What was that?" Harry whispered, trying to make sense of the voices.

"What did you feel?" Ollivander asked urgently.

Harry paused and evaluated what had just happened before responding. His reaction to this wand was atypical, or else Ollivander would not have insisted upon this experimentation, and the voices must hold unimaginable importance: importance he did not yet understand, therefore they must remain secrets that were not divulged.

"I felt a gently warmth," Harry began, but quickly realizing it was the wrong answer based on the look of disbelief spread across the face of the old man, "And then a jolt, a cold sensation, spread over me."

"Anything else?" Ollivander pressed, leaning uncomfortably closer to Harry, "Any sounds, visions or… voices?"

"None of that," Harry replied quicker than he would have liked, "Well maybe some strange sounds, but nothing distinguishable. I should really get going. Its getting late."

"Yes… yes…" The wand-maker muttered nonchalantly as he waved his arm, "Strange… very strange indeed…"

Seeing the sign of dismissal, Harry gladly took the cue and stormed out of the shop. Upon exiting the doors, Harry turned to the corner, away from the shop windows, and slid onto the ground, panting heavily for breath.

"Harry!" Tonks cried in concern as she knelt before the boy, "What's wrong? Did your wand make such a big reaction? Its normal… don't worry."

"No, Tonks, its not normal," Harry said bitterly, "I didn't get a wand."

"Oh… wait… what?" The red-haired girl asked as she helped Harry back to his feet.

"Its something complicated about how my magic and something are incompatible," Harry lied, "I'm not so sure myself. I'll be able to use wands and all, but he said that it would be detrimental if I do."

"How is using a wand detrimental?" Tonks said in exasperation, "You can't direct and manipulate magic without it! Only the most powerful wizards can use wandless magic, but even they require loads of experience and practice."

Harry shrugged but offered no immediate response. Though he would not admit it, he had a childish sense of anticipation to owning a wand, and now that anticipation was replaced by bitterness.

From the day's encounters, too many incidences now seemed more than mere coincidences to him, and he was not ready to tell these thoughts to Tonks. "Let's worry about all that stuff later. Now fulfill your job as my wizarding world guide and show me the rest of Diagon Alley!"

"Yes sir!" Tonks smirked with a mock salute and hooked her arm around Harry's. She could sense the unease and sullen mood of the boy, so she thought of the only thing that would cheer him up. Little did Harry know that he was about to return to Gringott's to refill his money _bottomless_ pouch, and will be returning more times than he could count on his fingers.

* * *

Note and Spoilers:

Thanks for the reviews and continue to do so if you like or dislike something. I do not get offended easily so feel free to type your mind away.

Just limit the swearing plz (every time I read written profanity I always imagine a very hairy gorilla throwing poop at the screen - not a pretty sight)

Concerning Sirius and Spoilers: I believe I might not have done him justice. To me, this version of Sirius is very complex. Currently, his Psyche is reverted to one of a childish and carefree nature. His backstory was not explored since no character would logically bring it up. He was released early from Azkaban, thus he never had the outlet/ goal to vent his delirium and hate due to his being unaware of Peter's survival. The only method he could deploy to protect himself from his suffering is by becoming the childish version of himself before all the negative events occured. He does not appear at all bothered by the death of his friends and his time in Azkaban due to his selecting to omit those memories. This constant state of ignorance and childishness juxstaposes the constant state of anguish he had experienced in Azkaban. His character will progress a lot as the plot moves on, and I have big plans for Sirius. Please be patient.

Concerning Selene and Spoilers: I really like her and the plans I have for her. I would not have introduced a new character if I do not believe that her creation is essential. I need her limitless potential and history, aspects which are unhindered by the fleeting nature of a regular human life or the confines of a predetermined template. I don't plan overly sexualizing her beyond this point, and the role she will serve goes beyond a simple romantic relationship.

I apologize in advance for any mistakes. I forgot my laptop at home and now I'm half a globe away from the safety of my computer. Phone typing is not fun.


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